


The New Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets

by williamdrew8



Series: The New Harry Potter Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/F, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Second Year, Hufflepuff, M/M, Major Character(s), Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Parselmouth Harry Potter, Parseltongue, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Step-Brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14026989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamdrew8/pseuds/williamdrew8
Summary: This is the rewrite of the entire Harry Potter Series. This has the same storyline as the original you know and love. But what if Harry had a long lost brother he didn't know about?This new original character brings a twists to the Harry Potter series without drifting away the story from the Harry Potter you know and love. I based this character off myself and this idea made my write it all down. The same storyline but with a few new major characters and new added plot. A must-read for Harry Potter fans. Includes LGBT couples and new characters and strong character development. Updates daily until completed.Second part of the series, read the first to understand more.All copyright reserved. Harry Potter and Harry Potter related belong to J.K. Rowling. This is intended for non- commercial use only. This is for entertainment use only.





	1. The Worst Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with the second book! Hope you all enjoy!

Harry smiled as he flipped through the pages of the red leather book Hagrid gave him at the end of last year. He sat on his bed in his room and laughed as the pictures in the book started moving and his parents were smiling with him and his brother.

Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be.

Harry Potter was a wizard — a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world.

All Harry's spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done? The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world.

Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family. Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with emerald green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar.

It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before.

At the age of one, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow — nobody understood why —Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry. He escaped with his brother, Killian and have been separated for ten years, until reuniting last year when he went to Hogwarts, which is where Killian currently resides.

So Harry had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents and brother. And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry, and the whole story had come out. Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous... but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly.

But his mind was happy now as he smiled again before turning the page of the red photo album. There he was with Ron and Hermione, his best friends. His thoughts were distracted by a sudden loud chirp and clank. Hedwig, his owl was making a racket again.

"I can't let you out Hedwig. I'm not allowed to use magic outside of school."

Hedwig continued chirping loudly.

"Besides If Uncle Verm-"

"HARRY POTTER!" A muffed shout filled the house as Harry sighed and closed the book. He took another look at Hedwig.

"Now you've done it."

Harry went down to the living room to see Vermon's annoyed face glancing at him before tying Dursley's tie and spoke to Harry without turning.

"I've warned you. Third time this week!" he roared. "If you can't control that bloody bird, it'll have to go!"

Harry tried, yet again, to explain.

"But she's bored," he said. "If I could only let her out for an hour or two-"

"Ha!" snarled Uncle Vernon sarcastically. "What? So you can send secret messages to your freaky little friends? No, sir."

He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia. Harry tried to argue back. "But I haven't had any messages, from any of my friends. Not one." He said, voice breaking a bit. They had promised to write to him but so far not a single letter had reached his house.

But his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley. "Who would want to be friends with you?" He said as he pushed past Harry fiercely. He

Uncle Vermon walked up to him now, with a fake smile.

"Harry, you perhaps should be a little more grateful. We've raised you since you were a baby, given you the food of our table, even let you have Dudley's second bedroom purely out of goodness of our hearts." Harry doubted that.

Aunt Petunia meanwhile was preparing a homemade cake for guests who were arriving later, she gently slapped Dudley's hand when he tried picking a cherry from the cake.

"Not now popkins, you can eat it when the Masons arrive."

Vernon raised his hands, raising his voice slightly. "Which should be any minute." Before gesturing the family to huddle up in the living room.

At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, let's go over our schedule once again, shall we?"

Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it. He went back to his toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).

"Petunia, when the Masons arrive, you will be —?"

"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."

"Good, good. And Dudley? You will be?"

"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile.

"Excellent!" said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry. Voice turning cold as they all turned and glared at him. "And you?"

"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending that I don't exist." said Harry tonelessly.

"Too right, you are." said Uncle Vernon nastily. "With any luck this could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career. And you will not. Mess. It. Up"

Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He started making his way up to his room as the doorbell rang and he could hear distant conversations. The Dursleys paid no care to him, they didn't even care that it was his birthday today.

He sang gloomily as he walked up the stairs. "Happy birthday to me... happy birthday to me..." No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He sighed miserably. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger And especially his brother. They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all. Neither of them had written to him all summer Killian had said he would come and visit from time to time and even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay. Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Killian, Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his... 'friendly' rival, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream...

Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes —

Harry reached the top of the stairs and crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already something jumping on it.


	2. Dobby's Warning

Harry managed not to shout out, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls.

The creature slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm- and leg-holes.

"Harry Potter!" said the creature in a high-pitched voice Harry was sure would carry down the stairs. "Such an honour it is..."

"Who are you?" said Harry, mortified as he closed the bedroom door and stood there in shock.

"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf," said the creature.

"Not to be rude or anything," said Harry, still startled. "But this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom."

The elf hung his head. "Oh, yes, sir, Dobby understands" said Dobby earnestly. "It's just that, Dobby has come to tell you... it is very difficult, sir... Dobby wonders where to begin..."

"Why don't you sit down," said Harry offered politely, pointing at the bed.

To his horror, the elf burst into tears — very noisy tears. "S-sit down!" he wailed and cried out, sobbing loudly.

Harry was taken aback by the confusing reaction and immediately apologised, but at the same time afraid Uncle Vermon would hear him.

"Dobby, shush! I'm sorry," Harry said, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything —"

"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has heard of your greatness sir, but Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard — like an equal —"

Harry ushered Dobby back onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll. At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his great eyes fixed on Harry in an expression of watery adoration.

"You can't have met many decent wizards," said Harry with a smile, trying to cheer him up. Dobby shook his head with a slight smile "No I haven't".

Then his smile quickly turned into a frown and his eyes went huge, "That was an awful thing to say..." and without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the drawer, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

"Stop! Dobby Shush! Dobby please stop! Please be quiet!" Harry pleaded, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed — Hedwig had woken up with a particularly loud screech and was beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage.

"Are you alright?"

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir..."

"Your family?"

"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir... Dobby is bound to serve one family forever... If they ever knew Dobby was here—" The elf shuddered before continuing. "But Dobby had to come, Dobby has to protect Harry Potter... To warn him, Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year.

Harry was at a loss for words and stared at the elf in complete shock and disbelief.

"There is a plot, sir." Dobby continued "A plot to make most terrible things happen."

"What terrible things? Who's plotting them?"

Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned with gritted teeth, almost inaudible, "Can't! Say!"

"Okay! I understand!" said Harry quickly. "You can't say!"

But Dobby didn't seem to hear Harry as Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps.

"Dobby! Dobby put the lamp down!" Harry pleaded with a whisper. He runs over and tries to yank it out of his hand. "Give me the lamp! Dobby stop!"

A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Harry, heart thudding madly, heard Uncle Vernon coming into the hall with heavy footsteps.

Harry grabbed Dobby by the shirt and yanked him off the desk and walked over to his cupboard. "Get in there and keep quiet!" He slammed the cupboard door

Just then the bedroom door flew open to reveal a very angry Uncle Vermon

"What — the — _devil_ — are — you — doing up here?" said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to Harry's.

"I was just..."Harry said as he the cupboard door started to open, he slammed it shut.

"You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke..."

"Sorry..." The cupboard door opened again and he slammed it shut.

"One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy! And fix that door!"

"Yes sir." Harry said before shutting it again.

Vermon stomped flat-footed from the room.

Shaking, Harry let Dobby out of the closet. The elf walked out shakily and Harry spoke again.

"See why I've got to go back? I don't belong here. I belong in your world. At Hogwarts! It's the only place I've got friends! And I have a brother!"

"Friends and a brother who don't even  _write_ to Harry Potter?" said Dobby slyly.

"Well I expect they— Hang on," said Harry, frowning. "How do  _you_ know my friends haven't been writing to me?"

Dobby shuffled his feet. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby hoped... if Harry Potter thought his friends and brother had forgotten him, Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, so when Harry Potter's brother came to visit, so Dobby tampered with his magic so he couldn't come visit you, sir." he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry Potter's friends wrote these sir, Harry Potter's brother wrote the most."

Harry was angry and shocked at the revelation. "Give me those.  _Now_."

"NO!" Dobby screamed and before Harry could move, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open, and sprinted down the stairs.

Mouth dry, stomach lurching, Harry sprang after him, trying not to make a sound. He jumped the last six steps, landing catlike on the hall carpet, looking around for Dobby. From the dining room he heard Uncle Vernon saying, "... tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear..."

Harry ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt his stomach disappear. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby.

"Dobby!" croaked Harry. "Get back here!"

Dobby gave him a tragic but mischievous smirk and snapped his fingers. The pudding sprang up and floated in mid-air.

Harry was now panicking. "Dobby...Please, no..."

"Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school —"

"I can't! Hogwarts is my home!"

Dobby gave him a tragic look.

"Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter's own good." He snapped his fingers again and the pudding floated to the living area. It floated all the way up above Mrs Mason's head as Dobby snapped his fingers again.

The pudding fell on Mrs Mason with a heart-stopping splat. Cream splattered all over her suit. And with a crack like a whip. Dobby vanished into thin air.

Uncle Vermon was staring at Harry now, everyone was. Vermon was enraged but not willing to show it.

"I'm so sorry. It's just our nephew, he's very disturbed, meeting strangers upsets him, that's why I kept him upstairs..."

Mrs. Mason screamed and ranted like a banshee and ran from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to ask the Dursley's whether this was their idea of a joke.

He was bearing down on Harry like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. "Well, I've got news for you, boy... I'm locking you up... You're never going back to that school... never!"

And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Harry back upstairs.

Uncle Vernon was as bad as his word. The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on Harry's window. He himself fitted a cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Harry out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, he was locked in his room around the clock. Harry lay on his bed watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window and wondered miserably what was going to happen to him.

Life at Privet Drive had reached an all-time low. Now that the Dursleys knew they weren't going to wake up as fruit bats, he had lost his only weapon. Dobby might have saved Harry from horrible happenings at Hogwarts, but the way things were going, he'd probably starve to death anyway.

Supposing he was still alive in another four weeks, what would happen if he didn't turn up at Hogwarts? Would someone be sent to see why he hadn't come back? Would they be able to make the Dursleys let him go?

The room was growing dark. Exhausted, stomach rumbling, mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep.

There was a soft vibrating noise that Harry could hear, it was coming from outside his window, and he sat up on his bed and reached for his glasses and put them on sleepily. He stand beside his window and looks into the dark black night sky, filled with sparking stars until two of them seemed to be getting closer as the vibrating became louder and the sound of a car engine could be heard. Harry blinked his eyes as the moving lights got closer as the shape of a car can be made out, Harry watched in awe as the flying vehicle pulled to a stop outside Harry's window, moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone  _was_ goggling through the bars at him: a freckle-faced, red-haired, and long-nosed someone.

Ron Weasley was outside Harry's window.


	3. The Burrow

Harry pushed the window open as the car pulled to a stop in mid-air, with the engine still running.

"Hiya Harry!" Ron smiled happily. Harry's mouth fell open as the full impact of what he was seeing hit him. Ron was leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise car, which was parked in mid-air. Grinning at Harry from the front seats were Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers.

"Ron." breathed Harry, "George. Fred. What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you of course. Now come on, get your trunk! "Ron said enthusiastically.

"I can't! It's downstairs and I'm locked in!"

"Use this to pick the lock!" George said, handing him a silver key with the end of a pencil.

"One of our inventions!" Fred joined in. "Works like a muggle hairpin."

Harry picked the lock and with a click, the door jolted open as he rushed down quietly to Uncle Vermon and Aunt Petunia's room and opened the door as quietly as possible. The keys were resting on the counter beside the door in a bowl, Harry breathed a sigh of relief and took the key, and he scurried to the closet under the stairs where all his stuff was, unlocked it and packed everything in his trunk and held it in one hand and held his broom in the other. He glanced at the closet and shuddered, just looking brings back horrible memories, he rushes back up to his room as Ron smiled brightly again upon seeing his return.

Harry and Ron both glanced at the metal bar that was blocking the window.

"You better stand back," said Ron as he attaches a hook that was tied to the back of the car onto the metal bar.

Harry moved back into the shadows next to Hedwig, who seemed to have realized how important this was and kept still and silent. The car revved louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Fred drove straight up in the air. Harry ran back to the window to see the bars falling and with a loud thud, hit the ground.

Vermon was startled by the noise and jolted awake, along with Aunt Petunia and Dudley.

"POTTER!!"

The whole house shook at Vermon's words.

"Come on Harry! Hurry up!" Ron said in a panic.

Harry passed his belongings hurriedly out of the window to Ron. He snatched up Hedwig's cage, dashed to the window, and passed it out to Ron. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door — and it crashed open. For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle.

Ron, Fred, and George seized Harry's arms and pulled as hard as they could.

"PETUNIA!" roared Uncle Vernon. "PETUNIA, HE'S ESCAPING!"

His grip on Harry's ankle still tight as ever.

"LET GO OF ME!" Harry shouted.

"OH NO, BOY! YOU AND THAT BLOODY PIGEON AREN'T GOING ANYWHERE!"

"GET OFF!"

But the Weasleys gave a gigantic tug and Harry's leg slid out of Uncle Vernon's grasp — Harry was in the car — he'd slammed the door shut.

"Drive!" yelled Ron, and the car shot suddenly toward the moon.

Harry couldn't believe it — he was free. He rolled down the window, the night air whipping his hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry's window.

"See you next summer!" Harry yelled.

The Weasleys roared with laughter and Harry settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear.

"By the way Harry," Ron smiled. "Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks, Ron, can you please help let Hedwig out?" he told Ron. "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages."

George handed their invention to Ron and, a moment later, Hedwig soared joyfully out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost.

"So — what's the story, Harry?" said Ron impatiently. "What's been happening?"

Harry told them all about Dobby, the warning he'd given Harry and the fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long, shocked silence when he had finished.

"Very fishy," said Fred finally.

"Definitely dodgy" agreed George. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," said Harry. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."

He saw Fred and George look at each other. "What, you think he was lying to me?" said Harry.

"Well," said Fred, "put it this way — house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes, although it's more of a friendly rivalry." said Harry instantly.

George and Fred gave him a puzzling look.

"It's Draco Malfoy," Harry explained. "I still think he hates me though."

"More like jealous." Ron said with a laugh.

"Draco Malfoy?" said George, turning around. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"

"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" said Harry.

"I've heard Dad talking about him," said George. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."

"And when You-Know-Who disappeared," said Fred, craning around to look at Harry,

"Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung — Dad reckons he was right in You- Know-Who's inner circle."

Harry had heard these rumours about Malfoy's family before, and they didn't surprise him at all. When Malfoy was angry or mean, he made Dudley Dursley look like a kind, thoughtful, and sensitive boy...

"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf..." said Harry.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich," said Fred.

"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," said George. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house..."

Harry was silent. Judging by the fact that Draco Malfoy usually had the best of everything, his family was rolling in wizard gold; he could just see Malfoy strutting around a large manor house. The only explanation is that he's probably going back to hating Harry again for some weird reason and is sending the family servant to stop Harry from going back to Hogwarts. Killian would probably know about this and he would know if Malfoy was really up to anything, they were friends after all.

"Killian!" Harry suddenly shouted.

Ron jumped a little. "Your brother?"

"Oh no! I haven't gotten any of his or your letters in ages because of Dobby, I can't write to you guys either!"

"Oh so that's why! I was getting really worried when you didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first —"

"Who's Errol?"

"Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes —"

"Who?"

"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect," said Fred from the front.

"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me," said Ron. "Said he needed him."

"That's the main road," said George, changing the conversation, peering down through the windshield. "We'll be there in ten minutes... Just as well, it's getting light..."

A faint pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east. Fred brought the car lower, and Harry saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees. Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees. They had reached dawn by the time they got there. It was six in the morning now.

"Touchdown!" said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Harry looked out for the first time at Ron's house.  
...  
It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard. They got out of the car.

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred, "and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car." They said as they stepped in the window and entered the house.

"Right," said Ron. "Come on, Harry, I sleep at the — at the top —"

Ron had gone a nasty greenish colour, his eyes fixed in front of him in the living room. The other three wheeled around.

Mrs. Weasley was marching across the room. For a short, plump, kind- faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a sabre-toothed tiger. All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them.

"Ah, "said Fred.

"Oh, dear," said George.

Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" She screamed and turned to Harry, her glare disappeared and was replaced with a warm smile. "Harry! How wonderful to see you, dear!" She turned back and the glare resurfaced.

"BEDS EMPTY? NO NOTE? CAR GONE? YOU COULD HAVE DIED! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SEEN!" She turned to Harry again. "Of course I don't blame you Harry, dear."

"They were starving him, mum!" Ron said timidly. "There were bars in his window!"

"WELL YOU BEST HOPE I DON'T PUT BARS ON YOUR WINDOW, RONALD WEASLEY!" She turned to Harry yet again as Ron swallowed. "Come on, Harry! Time for a spot of breakfast!"

She turned and walked back into the kitchen and Harry, after a nervous glance at Ron, who nodded encouragingly, followed her.

The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle, and Harry sat down on the edge of his seat, looking around, properly taking in where he was. He had never been in a wizard house before. The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like  _Time to make tea, Time to feed the chickens,_ and _you're late_. Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts — it's Magic!

Mrs. Weasley was clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered things like "don't know what you were thinking of," and "never would have believed it."

"I don't blame you, dear," she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. "Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really," (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate) "flying an illegal car halfway across the country — anyone could have seen you —"

She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.

"It was cloudy, Mum!" said Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"They treated him like a prisoner, Mum!" said George.

Mrs. Weasley could only sigh, as she started cutting bread and buttering it for Harry. "Here we are, Harry. Tuck in. That's it."

At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen.

"Um mummy?" She asked timidly. "Have you seen my jumper?"

"Yes dear, it was on the cat." Mrs Weasley chirped happily.

Ginny turned to look at Harry and her eyes went wide.

Harry smiled back awkwardly. "Um, hello!"

Ginny gave a small squeal, and ran out again.

"Wh- What did I do?" Harry asked innocently.

"Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer, bit annoying really."

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word.

Just then, a man's head popped in the window. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn.

"Morning Weasleys!" He chirped happily.

"Morning dad!"

"Morning Arthur."

Mr Weasley shut the door as he gave his wife a peck on the cheek before sitting down next to Harry for breakfast.

"What a night," he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned..."

Harry looked at Ron. "Raids?"

"Dad works at the Ministry of Magic. In the 'Misuse Of Muggle Artefacts Office. Dad loves muggles. Thinks they're fascinating."

Mr Weasley sipped his tea before looking at Harry curiously. "And who are you?"

"Oh. Sorry Sir, I'm Harry, Sir. Harry Potter."

He smiled widely. "Good Lord. Are you really?"

Harry shrugged and smiled sheepishly in return.

"Well," Mr Weasley beamed, "Ron has told us all about you, of course."

He turned to Mrs Weasley with a grin. "When did he get here?"

She crossed her arms.

"This morning." She let out a sigh and glared at Fred, George and Ron. "Your sons flew that car to Surrey and back last night!" shouted Mrs. Weasley.

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "How did it go?"

Mrs Weasley gave him a punch in the arm. "Arthur!"

"I mean..." he straightened himself and put up a stern voice. "That was very wrong indeed boys! Very wrong of you."

Harry and Ron just smiled at each other and giggled quietly.

"Now Harry." Arthur turned to Harry again. "You must know all about muggles. Tell me. What exactly is the function of a rubber duck?"

"Oh Um..." Harry started, unsure of how to answer his question.

Suddenly a knock on the door stopped all thought as Molly went to fetch it. All eyes were turned to the door as the knocking continued.

"Who could be here at this time of the day?" She said as she opened the door.

She stopped and a wide smile went up on her face as she clasped her mouth with her hands. Tears glittering in her eyes.

"Hello, Molly. It's lovely to see you again!"

Harry recognised the voice instantly as he got up from his seat. Killian was wearing a black and white muggle jacket and his ashen hair was loosely swiped to the left of his head. He carried his trunk on one hand and Eris, his Raven, stood on his shoulder.

He put down the trunk as Eris flew off his shoulder before picking up the trunk and flying into the house, disappearing upstairs. Molly threw her arms around Killian and gave him a warm hug and kissed his cheeks before stepping back and holding onto his shoulders with a wide grin.

"Ohh Killian dear, how long has it been! Four years? Five years? Ron's been talking about you returning to Hogwarts! Gosh you don't look that older last time I saw you!" She rambled on as she cupped his cheeks and smiled. "Look at you! Oh dear you arrived just in time for breakfast!"

"Yes, the time freezing spell just wore off last year. Not much of a difference." He smiled and turned to Harry.

Harry ran towards him and gave his brother a bone crushing hug.

Killian smiled as ruffled his hair. "Harry."

"Killian." He pulled back from the hug. "I missed you."

"And I missed you too."

Arthur was up from his seat now, and so was everyone else. Ron was smiling as he gave Killian another hug.

"Oh Killian! I didn't expect you to come so early! Do come in! It's so lovely to see you again." Arthur beamed as he gave him yet another hug, the Weasleys sure do love hugs.

Killian gave the twins and Ginny, who came down because of all the commotion, each a hug again but he held out his hand to Percy awkwardly when he greeted him, he always had the impression that Percy was stiff and all, but that was about to be proven wrong. Percy just shook his head and gave him a hug to which Killian gladly returned.

"Sorry," Percy laughed. "Runs in the family."

They all sat down to continue their food and they started bombarding Killian with all sorts of questions.

"So, Killian. Is it true that you're Harry's brother?"

"How come you know Mum and Dad?"

"Is Slytherin bad?"

"Why are your eyes purple?"

"Do you know what the function of a rubber duck is?"

Killian just sat awkwardly but thankfully Molly jumped in to save the day.

"One at a time dears! The poor boy had just arrived!"

"How do you know..." George started.

"Mum and Dad?" Fred finished.

Killian, Molly and Arthur all frowned at this question but Molly hesitantly answered. "Well dear, after that night... at Godric's Hollow..."

Harry frowned slightly but Killian put an arm around his shoulder. Everyone knew what she was talking about.

"...Killian here needed a place to stay, so we took him in for about 2 months, though I don't suppose any of you boys would remember that." 

Percy, Fred, George and Ron all shook their heads.

"Your brothers Charlie and Bill may recognise him, though." Arthur said and then turned to Killian. "They're not here at the moment, sorry about that."

Bill was the oldest Weasley brother. He and the next brother, Charlie, had already left Hogwarts. Harry had never met either of them, but knew that Charlie was in Romania studying dragons and Bill in Egypt working for the wizard's bank, Gringotts.

"Oh that's perfectly fine Arthur. Please send them my regards if you see them!" Killian replied happily.

”So it’s true then?” Fred said. 

“You’re really Harry’s brother?” George looked at Killian. 

“When Ron first told us we didn’t believe him...”

”...thought it was a joke.” 

“It’s true. Only very few people know I survived and I’ve been kept hidden for my own safely . Though I suppose it’s okay to tell them now.” Killian replied.

"What happened afterwards?” Ron asked.

Killian took a deep breath and proceeded to tell them all about his past while running from You-Know-Who, telling them about Dumbledore's plan, the time-freezing spell, how much Harry cried as a baby, (which gained a lot of laughs and a embarrassed punch in the arm from Harry.) and his first time at Hogwarts.

"...And I was sorted into Ravenclaw."

"I thought you were Slytherin, are you not?" Percy asked, confused.

"No, you're right, but when I first went to Hogwarts, I was ACTUALLY 11." He drew air quotes when he said that and sighed as he bit into his sausage. "It wasn't until second year that Dumbledore and I got the plan for the time freezing spell, he taught me privately from that day onwards so after that I just kinda stopped going to Hogwarts as a student for the time being, I just returned last year."

"So how old..."

"...are you really?" The twins asked yet again.

"Physically 12. Mentally 18."

"Wow, how does it feel?" Ginny asked enthusiastically. "Even after the spell wore off."

"I don't know really," Killian said. "I still feel like a kid but my view on things has matured over the years since I have more experience in almost everything."

The Weasleys kept asking him questions about his time freezing spell and they talked about Hogwarts and other things until Mrs Weasley shooed them off to bed since it was still early. The sun had barely started to rise out of the horizon.

"Off to bed now dears, we have a long day ahead of us!" She said as she waved her wand and the dishes disappeared.

"Come on, I'll show you my bedroom." Ron said as he pulled Harry and Killian along with him.

They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up through the house. On the third landing, a door stood ajar. Harry just caught sight of a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him before it closed with a snap.

"Ginny," said Ron. "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally —"

They climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying  **RONALD'S ROOM**.

Harry stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a furnace: Nearly everything in Ron's room seemed to be a violent shade of orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Then Harry realized that Ron had covered nearly every inch of the shabby wallpaper with posters of the same seven witches and wizards, all wearing bright orange robes, carrying broomsticks, and waving energetically.

"Your Quidditch team?" said Harry.

"The Chudley Cannons," said Ron, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black C's and a speeding cannonball.

"Only the best team in Quidditch!" Killian said as he high fived Ron.

Ron's school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics that all seemed to feature  _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle_. Ron's magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frog spawn on the windowsill, next to his fat gray rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun.

"It's a bit small," said Ron quickly. "Not like that room you had with the Muggles, and I'm sorry if it's not as big as your house, Killian. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning..."

Ron sighed loudly and slumped onto his bed. "It's not much... but it's home."

But Harry, grinning widely, thinking of Privet Drive, said "This is the best house I've ever been in." Ron's ears went pink.

...

Harry and Killian talked for hours in the guest bedroom they were sharing, Killian talked about his summer and how he had spent the summer testing out new spells he had learnt and how much he wanted to show Harry them, no one was up before nine o'clock and it was only half past seven.

"So THAT'S why!" Killian sighed when Harry told him about Dobby and the letters. "I came and visited a few times but the magic wards put up there were preventing me from communicating with you! It was Dobby all along! Even Eris couldn't get through them!"

"Still, it's a bit strange how he doesn't want me back at Hogwarts though! I wonder if anything would happen."

"Relax, Harry, you'll be fine. I'll write to Draco to make sure Dobby isn't doing that anymore. I'm not that tired anyways." He said and walked over to the table in the corner and started writing with his quill.

"Thanks, Killian." Harry smiled, looking over.

"You're welcome." He said without looking away from his letter. "Still, it must have been a sight when Dobby dropped that pudding with the Dursley's watching."

Harry and Killian both laughed but stayed silent after the mention of the Dursley's. Killian broke the silence by saying something less conversation friendly, but was necessary to talk about.

"How are they treating you?" He asked softly, he turned around this time and looked at Harry.

"Still pretty bad... They didn't want me going back either, so they put up metal bars on my window and locked me in my room."

"WHAT?!" Killian shouted angrily.

"Shhh! You'll wake everyone!"

"Sorry..." Killian mumbled and walked over to Harry's bed. "Did they...abuse you or anything?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really, Uncle Vermon hit me once, they mostly starved me."

"Harry that's the literal definition of abuse!" Killian gritted his teeth. "God if only Blood magic wasn't so damm tricky you could come live with me."

"What?" Harry asked curiously. "What's blood magic?"

Killian looked at Harry and smiled softly before ruffling his hair again. "I forget how much you don't know." He sat down onto his bed.

"When our parents passed away. Blood wards were activated on the Dursley's house since it was the closest blood related living residence to the Potters, so Dumbledore had to send you there to keep you safe. Nobody with magic could harm you... or anyone living there. Blood wards, any type of blood magic could only be transferred or destroyed by people who possess similar blood from the user who activated it and would only wear off after at most 20 years. Since you are the only wizard related directly to the Potters, only you are able to unlock it. But you are not of age to use magic yet outside school yet, and since I'm not related to you by blood, I'm afraid there's not much I can do."

"Well..." Harry sighed. "At least you're here now."

Harry hugged his brother tightly before falling onto his bed again.

"Right." Killian said, walking back to his bed. "Get some sleep, we have a long day ahead of us."

Harry smiled and drifted off, dreaming of Quidditch and Hogwarts. Killian ruffled his hair again before returning to the table. He wrapped his letter in an envelope and called for Eris.

The raven appeared with a crack of lightning and Killian placed the letter in her beak. "Please deliver this to Malfoy Manor, to Draco Malfoy."

Eris flew off the window perch as Killian watched the sun shine through the mountains with a smile.


	4. At Flourish and Blotts

Life at the Burrow was as different as possible from life on Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and ordered; the Weasleys' house burst with the strange and unexpected. What Harry found most unusual about life at Ron's, however was the fact that everybody there seemed to like him.

Mrs. Weasley fussed over the state of his socks and tried to force him to eat fourth helpings at every meal. Mr. Weasley liked to sit in between Killian and Harry at the dinner table so that he could bombard them with questions about life with Muggles, especially Harry, asking him to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked. And asked Killian about his life as a grown up trapped in a child's body, to which Killian said it was rather pleasant since he got another chance at childhood.

" _Fascinating_." he would say as Harry talked him through using a telephone. " _Ingenious_ , really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic."

...

Eris had just flew into the bedroom window of Malfoy Manor an hour after Killian sent her off, the journey would have usually taken a day since it was such a long way but thanks to Eris' magical properties it had got there much quicker.

Draco had just woken up as Eris tapped on the glass as he opened his eyes sleepily. He rubbed his eyes and got up with a yawn and opened the window as Eris handed him the letter. The raven stood by the window ledge as Draco read the letter.

 

_Draco,_

_How are you? How is your summer? I hope you are well._

_I'm writing to you because your house elf, Dobby has recently been in Harry's home over the summer and hid his letters. He even kept me from visiting him. He's here at the Burrow with me now so don't worry, but Dobby was telling Harry that he couldn't go back to Hogwarts because something bad will happen. I really hope this isn't one of your jokes so could you please just tell him to stop? And please try to find out why he's doing that. But anyways, I hope you are well. I might stop by Diagon Alley the next few days so please let me know if you would like anything._

_Your friend,_

_Killian_

 

Draco groaned, he was usually very happy when Killian writes to him but he had been woken up and he was in a grumpy mood.

He wrote a quick reply.

 

_Killian,_

_I'm fine thanks. No it wasn't me but I'll find out why he's doing that._

_Draco_

 

He gave the letter to Eris and she left. Draco closed the window and flopped back down onto his bead. _He could ask Dobby later._ He thought. _Right now, sleep is the most important._

...

Draco awoke an hour later to his mother shaking him awake gently, he smiled at her, eyes still half closed.

"Morning mother."

Narcissa Malfoy was a very elegant woman, she had long blonde hair with strands of brown. Her eyes were blue like the sky and sea and had the most soothing voice a mother could have.

"Morning Dragon." She replied sweetly. "Time to get up, breakfast is downstairs waiting for you. Afterwards, please go to the drawing room. Your father and I have a present we would like to give you before you go back to Hogwarts."

She kissed his cheek as she got out of the room to let him get dressed. Draco got up slowly as he started to get dressed, he stepped out of his pyjamas into his robes. He walked out of his room into the drawing room, he simply wanted to see what gift he had got, he was too impatient.

Dobby was cleaning in the drawing room as he spotted a small black box on the table, inside was a beautiful gold pendant, it held the Malfoy crest with a snake surrounding the letter M. It was black and gold in color. Dobby grew wide eyed at the fascination of such a delicate gift as he slowly put it around his neck and stood in front of the mirror, striking a pose in an extremely imitating way Draco would stand.

"HEY!" Draco said angrily as Narcissa followed behind him.

Dobby hurriedly took off the pendant and cleaned it with a spell quickly, it was sparking like new but Draco was still mad.

"Oh Master Draco! Dobby is terribly sorry! Please forgive Dobby, Dobby was just fascinated see-"

"How dare you!" He interrupted and glared at Dobby. "That's mine! It's not for a servant."

"It was Dobby's mistake!" Dobby apologized again as he hopped of the chair in front of the mirror.

Draco still glared at him as Narcissa walked up beside him. "Servants don't deserve-"

"Enough!" Narcissa said sternly.

"Dobby is sorry Mistress Cissy. Dobby just-"

"No." She said again. "I was talking to Draco."

Draco turned to look at her and he arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Me?"

Narcissa shook her head, "I thought I raised you better than that, Draco. It doesn't matter whether one is a servant or a master. Everyone deserves our respect."

If there was one thing different from Draco's father and Draco's mother, it's that his mother's views on purebloods, muggles, muggleborns and people in the wizarding world was much different from Draco father's. She was much more understanding of the world around them and wouldn't judge harshly, unlike his father.

"But he took my pendant-" Draco complained.

"He apologised." She said before crouching down slightly to meet his gaze. "And it isn't yours yet."

Dobby was quite embarrassed now. "Oh Mistress Cissy! It's all right! Dobby doesn't hope to-"

But she shook her head. "You're kind, Dobby. But Draco must learn."

Draco turned around and had his back to his mother's.

Narcissa sighed. "My Dragon. We are all the same."

Draco scoffed but didn't turn around. "But we are Malfoys, mother."

"We are." She turned Draco back to face her, "But that doesn't make us better than everyone else."

"But what about what father said?" Draco said again, "Mudbloods and servants are below us."

"Do not use that word, Draco." Narcissa said sternly. "Your father and I have very different views. I am telling you things from my point of view now. Which one you listen to is up to you, but let me finish."

Draco nodded timidly and listened.

"Last month, the celebration at the Manor, when _the sacred 28_ came. Do you remember what it's for?"

Draco smirked. "It's to honour _me_ on my birthday in front of _the sacred 28_ pureblood families." He smiled proudly after he spoke.

But Narcissa shook her head again.

"No." Draco frowned and looked at her in confusion "It's for _you_ to honour _them_ , Draco, by showing them you will be a proud and benevolent future Lord of the Manor, who would make the pureblood families around you proud, when the time comes."

Narcissa held her hand out to Dobby. "Please, the pendant."

Dobby smiled and handed it to her as she put it around Draco's neck. "When you are given this, by your father later, it will be a symbol that you will always hold goodness in your heart and you will show that you will rule justly when you become Lord of the Manor... Now do you understand?"

Draco smiled at looked at his mother. "I do, mother."

She smiled and gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead. Draco looked down at the pendant as it sparked, the black snake moved around the golden letter M beautifully.

"It's beautiful." He smiled.

"And it's heavier than it looks." Narcissa said before walking out of the room. "Come now, dear. Breakfast is ready."

Draco took off the pendant and followed his mother out the door, but stopped and turned to Dobby.

"Dobby." He said and looked at the house elf. "Is it true you've been stealing Harry Potter's letters and preventing Killian from visiting."

Dobby whimpered. "It is true, master."

Draco breathed in a sharp intake of breath and was about to tell him off, Dobby senses his glare and started hitting himself, Draco then remembered his mother's words and told Dobby to stop and calm down, to which Dobby, too shocked, hesitantly obeyed.

"Dobby why did you do that to Harry Potter?" He asked as nicely as possible.

"Dobby has heard that terrible things will happen at Hogwarts! Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"

"Why? what happened?"

"Dobby doesn't know how to explain."

"Okay. Dobby just tell me what the problem is related to."

"...The Chamber of Secrets, sir."

Draco's eyes widened, he had heard of the chamber of secrets before, but he didn't really know what it was.

Dobby saw Draco's shock and started punching himself again. "Dobby has said too much! Dobby has worried Master Draco!"

"It's okay Dobby." Draco assured. "Just please deliver those letters to Harry."

Dobby nodded and with a crack, he was gone.

Draco rushed back up to his room after breakfast and started writing a letter to Killian.  
...  
Killian and Harry were sleeping soundly when suddenly a loud crack sounded the guest bedroom and shook them awake. Harry hurriedly jumped out of bed and put on his glasses while Killian drew his wand out.

"Dobby?"

The house elf came with a stack of letters which he gave to Harry and gave one to Killian.

"My letters!" Harry said as he started reading them one by one.

"Dobby did you talk to Draco?" Killian asked.

The elf nodded and pointed at his letter.

Killian opened the letter.

 

_Killian,_

_I have found out why Dobby wasn't letting Harry go back to Hogwarts. Apparently it has something to do with the chamber of secrets. All I know about is that it has a connection to Salazar Slytherin and is located in Hogwarts, but that's all I know. I have told Dobby to stop. But nonetheless I hope you are well._

_Draco_

 

Killian put down the letter and looked at Dobby.

"The Chamber of secrets?" He said in a whisper so Harry couldn't hear.

Dobby nodded. "Dobby can't tell much sir."

"Okay. Please return to Draco and tell him everything is sorted now."

"Before Dobby returns, Killian Charming must promise to keep Harry Potter from going back to Hogwarts!"

Killian sighed. "I can't do that."

"Then Dobby has no choice."

Before Killian could say anything else, Dobby disappeared with another crack.

"So why did he not want me to go back?" Harry asked.

"He's still trying not to let you go back, I don't know why though, probably because he's a fan and he doesn't want you hurt?" Killian mentally cursed himself for a such a dumb excuse. He wouldn't want to worry Harry. But thankfully, Harry wasn't a Ravenclaw for a reason. Because he simply said "Ok," went back to bed and forgot about it the next morning. But Killian couldn't help but worry what Dobby had meant, and why the chamber of secrets is relating to that.

...

One sunny morning about three days after he had arrived at the Burrow. He, Killian and Ron went down to breakfast to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny already sitting at the kitchen table. The moment she saw Harry, Ginny accidentally knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter. Ginny seemed very prone to knocking things over whenever Harry entered a room. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing like the setting sun. Pretending he hadn't noticed this, Harry sat down and took the toast Mrs. Weasley offered him.

A screech from outside sounded as all heads turned towards the window.

"Oh that must be Errol with the post!" Mrs Weasley said happily.

The owl outside flew towards the house with a pile of letters in its mouth, it slowly glided towards the window... and smashed right into the glass.

Mrs Weasley frowned and gritted her teeth. "Oh fetch it will you, Percy?"

Percy cringed and hastily stepped towards the window as Errol flew onto the ledge through the other window.

"Oh Errol, he's always doing that." Ron complained.

"Oh it's our Hogwarts letters," said Percy, passing Harry and Ron identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. "And they've sent us Harry and Killian's too. You two have got them, too," he added, as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pyjamas.

Mr Weasley sighed happily as he dug into his breakfast "Ah, Dumbledore already knows you're here, Harry — doesn't miss a trick, that man."

Harry read his letter as he opened the envelope, it was the same as last years' telling him to go to platform 9 3/4 for the Hogwarts express. There was also a list of things needed.

 

_**SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:** _

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk_

_Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_43 Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart_

_Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart_

 

Fred, who had finished his own list, peered over at Harry's.

"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" he said.

"The new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan — bet it's a witch—" George smirked.

"—Or a wizard." Fred smiled at his brother.

"That lot won't come cheap," said Ron, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive..."

"Well, we'll manage," said Mrs. Weasley, but she looked worried. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."

"Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year," Percy whispered. "Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything..."

"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Ginny.

Ginny nodded, cheeks flushed red as she gave Harry a smile.

"Oh Molly and Arthur, please allow me to pay for your school supplies this year, it's the least I could do to repay the debt all those years ago!" Killian said to them.

"Nonsense!" Mrs Weasley quickly replied. "You certainly do not have to!"

"But I insist, please." Killian gave her a smile.

There was silence for a few moments before Mrs Weasley gave Killian a hug again. "Oh thank you so much dear! We'll make sure to get the cheapest lot possible!"

Killian returned the hug as Mr Weasley gave him a pat on the back as a way of saying thanks.

Errol suddenly chirped again as he flew towards Ron and handed him a letter.

Ron took one look at the letter before speaking. " _Finally_ — he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys."

He ripped open her letter and read it loudly.

 

_Dear Ron, (and Harry if you're there)_

_I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one off._

_I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course'—_

"How can she be?" said Ron in horror. "We're on vacation!"

_—'and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. I heard Killian will be joining you, so why don't we all meet in Diagon Alley?_

_Let me know what's happening as soon as you can._

_Love,_

_Hermione._

 

"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table.

...

Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today... Ah well, guests first! You go first, Harry. Killian, you can go afterwards, dear!"

And she offered him the flowerpot.

Harry stared at them all watching him.

"W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered.

"He's never traveled by Floo powder," said Killian suddenly. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."

"Never?" said Mr. Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"

"I went on the Underground with Hagrid —"

"Really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Were there _escapators_? How exactly —"

"Not now, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before — Ron you go first so Harry could see how it's done."

"You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs. Weasley told Harry as Ron dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "There, in you go..."

Ron gathered the grey dust from the pot and stepped into the fireplace, he shouted loudly.

"Diagon Alley!" And threw the dust downwards, a bright green emerald flame rose as it swallowed up Ron, and he disappeared on sight.

"Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going." Mr Weasley said to him.

"And keep your elbows tucked in," Killian advised.

"Remember to keep your eyes shut," said Mrs. Weasley. "The soot —"

"Don't fidget," said Fred.

"Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace —" George smirked.

Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath.

"Diagonilly!"

He flames sucked Harry away as the remaining Weasleys and Killian looked at the fireplace with mouths open.

"What-what did he say dear?" Mrs Weasley asked her husband.

"Diagonilly."

"I thought so." She sighed. "Someone ought to go after him and check if he's alright."

"I'll go." Killian said. And before anyone could protest he stepped in, gathered the powder.

"Diagonilly!"

And threw it into the flames.

...

Harry felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast — the roaring in his ears was deafening — he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick —something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning.

He suddenly fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the bridge of his glasses snap.

Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, he got gingerly to his feet, holding his broken glasses up to his eyes. He was quite alone, but where he was, he had no idea. All he could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop — but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.

A roar from the flames behind him caught his attention as Killian stepped through, but for some reason he was as clean as ever. He walked up to Harry and dusted the snoot off him.

"Merlin this is ridiculous." He muttered with a smile. "At least you're not hurt."

"How come you're not covered in ash?" Harry looked at him while he continued to brush ash off him. "And why are we here?”

Killian looked unamused. " _Because_ , you said it wrong, it's ‘ _Diagon Alley_ ’ not _Diagonilly_."

They looked around. A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the dark, narrow street they could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley.

"Oh I should have just apparated with you." Killian muttered.

They made their way swiftly and silently toward the door, but before they got halfway toward it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass — and one of them was Draco Malfoy.

Harry walked up to Malfoy to greet him. Killian was here after all and he probably wanted to say hi. They were friends after all. He walked forward but Killian held onto his shoulder and shook his head.

"But he's your friend." Harry said confused.

"No, not now." He pointed to the tall man next to Draco. "Not when he's here. Now hide."

Harry looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to his left; he shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through. Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Draco and the tall man stepped into the shop. Killian hid behind a statue of a winged horse, barely covering him.

The tall man could only be Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed face and had cold, gray eyes. Mr. Malfoy crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son, who was reaching for something. Mr Malfoy whipped his crane out and Draco immediately took his hand back.

"Don't touch anything, Draco." Mr Malfoy said coldly.

Malfoy, who had reached for the glass eye, said shakily "Yes father."

Draco bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls to distract himself. Killian looked at him from behind the statue and sighed softly.

A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.

"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again," said Mr. Borgin in a voice as oily as his hair. "Delighted — and young Master Malfoy, too — charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced —"

"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling," said Mr. Malfoy.

"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.

"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," said Mr. Malfoy, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few — ah — items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call..."

Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down the list. "The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"

Mr. Malfoy's lip curled. Harry watched nervously as Draco drew nearer and nearer to his hiding place, examining the objects for sale. Draco paused to examine a long coil of hangman's rope and to read, smirking, the card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals.

**_Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed — Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date._ **

"I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act — no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it —" Harry felt a hot surge of anger.

Draco was suddenly examining the black cabinet Harry was hiding in. Harry stayed as still as he could as he saw Draco smirking and admiring the cabinet through the eye holes with Mr Malfoy's voice still audible in the background. Draco walked forward — he stretched out his hand for the handle. Draco reached out to open the cabinet as Harry tried to back further into it. Normally he would have just jumped out without hesitation if it was just Draco, but Killian's warning about his father left him unsure.

"— and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear —" Mr Malfoy suddenly turned around and shot his cane beside Draco. Causing him to jump and closing the cabinet door.

"What did I say? Draco?" He asked sternly.

"Touch nothing." He replied shakily. "Sorry father."

Suddenly the bell rang again as Killian stopped at the door and all heads turned towards him. Draco smiled at his friend but Mr Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

Killian rushed forward to give Draco a firm handshake and a pat on the back before turning to Mr Malfoy.

"It's nice to meet you, Lucius." He said in a rather cold voice.

"That's a bit _informal_ don't you think... Mr Charming ?" Mr Malfoy studied him but Killian was unfazed. "It's Mr Malfoy to you."

"Of course. Mr Malfoy." replied Killian innocently and turned to Draco with a smirk to which Draco giggled silently.

"Draco has been talking all about you of course, Mr Charming..." He looked around the shop and back at Killian. "You take an interest in the dark arts, I see?"

"Yes, sir. I find it rather misunderstood and interesting."

"Impressive. Most impressive." Mr Malfoy said and turned back to the counter.

"Thank Merlin you're here!" Draco whispered timidly. "It's bad enough I'm spending the day with him." He glanced at Mr Malfoy who was at the counter speaking to Mr Borgin.

Killian gave Draco a hug when Mr Malfoy looked away. "You cut your hair." He said with a smirk.

Draco smiled and looked at Killian, his robes bore the same Slytherin house crest he has.

"Same robes." He smiled smugly.

Killian smiled back. "Different robes."

Suddenly, Draco's eyes grew wide as he whispered to Killian so nobody could hear them. "Did you get my letter? Dobby said something about the _Chamber of Secrets_ , I could dig through some-"

Killian held up a hand. "Don't you worry about that now. The chamber hasn't been opened for 50 years. Nothing will happen, I assure you, let's just forget about it until we go back to school alright?"

Draco smiled and nodded in reply.

Mr Malfoy had just pocketed his money as he turned to Killian again. "So what brings you here, Mr Charming?"

Killian looked around before replying. "Nothing much. Just doing some last minute shopping."

"Very well then, we won't disturb you," said Mr. Malfoy at the counter, he sneered at Killian. "Come, Draco —"

Killian smiled slightly at his friend as Draco looked back at him apologetically. He waved Killian goodbye as the Malfoys took their leave.

"Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods." The moment the door had closed, Mr. Borgin dropped his oily manner.

"Good day yourself, _Mister_ Malfoy, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your _manor_..." He turned to Killian. "See anything you like, young master?"

Killian turned to the cabinet Harry was in, remembering he was still there. He looked around the shop then froze when he spotted a necklace with a jet black gemstone in the middle, the necklace had a black chain as well. He shakily picked it up and showed it to him.

"Can you wrap this up for me and do the final checks please?"

Mr Borgin looked at Killian for what seemed like years. They had a silent staredown as Harry quietly watched from afar. Unsure of what was going on.

"I hope you do realise what this is, and what it can do, young one, are you sure you are in need of such an artefact?"

Killian nodded. "Trust me. I do."

Muttering darkly, Mr. Borgin disappeared into a back room. Harry slipped out of the cabinet, past the glass cases, and out of the shop door.

Clutching his broken glasses to his face, Harry stared around. He was about to exit when Killian told him to wait. Hesitantly, Harry stuck close to Killian as Mr Borgin returned with a black box.

"Here you are, young master." He nodded at Harry in acknowledgment before widening his eyes. "Come for some shopping?" Harry shook his head and pulled at Killian's sleeve to tell him to hurry up. Killian paid for the pendant and they left the shop. They had emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts. The one they just left, Borgin and Burkes, looked like the largest, but opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads and, two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black spiders. Two shabby-looking wizards were watching them from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other.

Killian tucked the tiny box away into his pocket.

"What was that?"

Killian looked at Harry. "Oh. It's nothing."

Harry didn't believe him but he would save questions for later. Feeling jumpy, Harry set off, but Killian held onto Harry’s wrist and then whispered to him to sick close.

An old wooden street sign hanging over a shop selling poisonous candles told him he was in Knockturn Alley. This didn't help, as Harry had never heard of such a place. He supposed he hadn't spoken clearly enough through his mouthful of ashes back in the Weasleys' fire. Trying to stay calm, he wondered what to do. He turned to Killian.

"Where are we?"

"Consider this as the opposite of Diagon Alley." He said, still looking around.

"So all gloomy and dark?"

"Precisely." Killian dragged Harry through the crowd of people in the street. "Let's go, hold on tight."

They continued down the dark alley until suddenly it was so crowded that Killian bumped into someone. The giant man turned around and the two immediately recognised him.

"HARRY! KILLIAN! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?"

Harry's heart leapt. So did Killkan.

"Hagrid!" Harry croaked in relief. "I was lost — Floo powder —" He said hurriedly.

"He basically said the wrong thing before taking the floo."

Hagrid nodded in understanding then seized them both by their wrists and pulled them all the way along the twisting alleyway out into bright sunlight. Harry saw a familiar, snow-white marble building in the distance — Gringotts Bank. Hagrid had steered him right into Diagon Alley.

"Yer a mess!" said Hagrid gruffly, brushing soot off Harry so forcefully he nearly knocked him into a barrel of dragon dung outside an apothecary. "Skulkin' around Knockturn Alley, tis a dodgy place, you two — don' want no one ter see yeh down there —"

"I realized _that_ ," said Harry, ducking as Hagrid made to brush him off again. "I told you, we were lost — what were you doing down there, anyway?"

" _I_ was lookin' fer a Flesh-Eatin' Slug Repellent," growled Hagrid. "They're ruinin' the school cabbages. Yer two not on yer own?"

"We're staying with the Weasleys but we got separated," Killian explained. "Because _SOMEBODY_ , pronounced ' _Diagon Alley'_ wrong." He glared at Harry but Harry only laughed at his brother's annoyance.

"We've got to go and find them..." Harry said after his fit of giggles.

They set off together down the street.

"How come yeh never wrote back ter me?" said Hagrid as Harry and Killian jogged alongside him ( _they had to take three steps to every stride of Hagrid's enormous boots_ ). Harry explained all about Dobby and the Dursleys.

"Lousy Muggles," growled Hagrid. "If I'd've known —"

"Harry! Killian! Over here!"

Harry looked up and saw Hermione Granger standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.

"Hagrid! It's nice to see you again!" She smiled.

"Hello Hermione!" The giant bellowed with a smile.

"Harry, Killian. Oh it's so good to see you two!" She hugged the two boys.

"It's great to see you too!" Harry smiled.

Hermione stepped back at looked at Harry before shaking her head. "What did you do to your glasses?"

She flicked her wand. " _Oculus Reparo._ "

Harry smiled as the crack on his glasses disappeared. He smiled at Hermione who had a satisfying smirk on her face.

“You really need better glasses if they break that easily, Harry.”

"Well, for starters I definitely need to remember that spell." Harry chuckled to himself.

"Yer be all right now then, you two. I'll leave yer to it then" said Hagrid. "See yer at Hogwarts!" And he strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street. 

"Come on you two." Hermione started walking. "Everyone's been so worried.

Harry, Killian and Hermione looked around: Sprinting up the crowded street were Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Mr. Weasley.

"Harry, Killian," Mr. Weasley panted. "We _hoped_ you'd only gone one grate too far..." He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic — she's coming now —"

"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.

"Knockturn Alley," said Killian.

" _Excellent_!" said Fred and George together.

"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously.

"I should sure well think not," growled Mrs Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other. "Oh, Harry — oh, my dear — you could have been anywhere — Killian followed you but we didn't know where where you were—"

Gasping for breath she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping off the soot Killian and Hagrid hadn't managed to beat away.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione as they pushed through the crowd. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" said Mr. Weasley sharply behind them.

"No, he was selling —" Killian replied.

"So he's worried," said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction.

"Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something..."

"You be careful, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley sharply. "That man’s trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew —"

"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" said Mr. Weasley indignantly. Molly hit him in the arm and spoke to all of them.

They all made their way to Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

 

_**GILDEROY LOCKHART** _

_Will be signing copies of his autobiography_

_MAGICAL ME_

_today 12:30P.M.to 4:30P.M._

 

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed- looking wizard stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please, ladies... Don't push, there... mind the books, now..."

They squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ and sneaked up the line.

"We'll be able to see him in a minute..." said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair.

"Ladies and Gentlemen... _Sir Gilderoy Lockhart_ " the store clerk spoke.

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, walking towards a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair. Everyone was clapping and Molly patted her hair even more.

Ron scoffed and turned to Harry and Killian. "Mum fancies him."

Molly turned and hit her son on the arm playfully, earning laughs from the family.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the _Daily Prophet_ —"

"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron — and then he saw Harry. He stared.

Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It _can't_ be Harry Potter?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face burned as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys.

"Nice big smile, Harry," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

When he finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry could hardly feel his fingers. He tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge —" The crowd applauded again. "He had no _idea_ ," Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me._ He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!_ "

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron.

"You have these," Harry mumbled to her. "I'll buy my own —"

But Molly stopped him. "No need for that Harry dear." She took Harry's books from him "Now I'll get your books signed, go wait outside with Ginny and the others."

Harry made his way to the door as it got less crowded when suddenly someone called for him.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Harry had no trouble recognizing. He shook his head with a smile and found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer.

" _Famous_ Harry Potter," said Draco sarcastically. "Can't even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy.

"Oh look Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend!_ " Draco laughed but then turned to her and spoke warmly "Don't worry, I'm only joking."

Ginny calmed down instantly but was still red with slight anger. "Still, it's not nice!"

"Okay. I’m sorry." Draco smiled genuinely at her before turning to Harry and smirked proudly again.

"Hello to you too, Malfoy." Harry rolled his eyes and shook Draco's hand. "Never thought you would be _nice_ AND _apologise_ at the same time."

"Well, Killian had a _massive fit_ about it last year, if you remember, and I've kind of changed thanks to him... I don't want to be like my father."

“Lucius Malfoy?”

"Trust me, you do not want to meet him." Draco said with a frown. "Speaking of Killian, where is he?"

As if on cue, Killian came from the back of the shop and gave Draco a hug. "Hello Draco. Fancy seeing you here."

"It's nice to see you again as well, Killian." He said with a smile.

The crowd at the back of the shop cheered again as camera flashes were visible.

Draco turned and said to Harry while shaking his head, "I still honestly don't know how you can stand the press, Potter, must be so tiring being famous."

"Trust me I can't." Harry laughed.

There was a loud tumble as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books, Hermione dropping them in the midst of all the people. Ron quickly went to help here before they came to the front of the shop.

Hermione smiled and greeted Draco. Ron then stepped in ftont of her and put down the books he was carrying, unaware Draco was there until he looked up.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron as he met Draco's gaze, they still weren't really friends yet, and their families sort of hated each other. "Nice to see you, Malfoy."

Draco smiled awkwardly. "Likewise."

It was silent for so long at laughter erupted a while later.

"Wow." Killian laughed as he looked at the two boys' awkward exchange. "Just. Wow."

Draco blushed deeply and punched Killian playfully with a smile. "Shut up."

All laugher was silenced when a crane was placed onto Draco's shoulder with a thud as his rolled his eyes when he recognised the snake head of the staff, it was his father’s crane.

"Well well. What do we have here?" Lucius Malfoy smiled darkly as Draco stepped aside so Lucius was in front of Harry. Killian rushed over to Draco and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He looked over to Draco. “You should know better than to befriend yourself with these _lowlife peasants_ , Draco.”

Draco didn’t reply. Only muttered to himself, remembering what his mother had said that morning. _We are all the same._

"Mr Potter." Lucius Malfoy said as he extended his hand to Harry, who looked at him in distaste. "Lucius Malfoy."

Harry glared at him, he remembered him from Borgin and Burkes. He was much worse than Draco.

"We meet at last.... Forgive me—" He smirked coldly before grabbing Harry by the collar and brushing his hair out of the way with his crane to reveal his lightning scar. "Your scar... is legend... as of course is the wizard who gave it to you."

Harry pulled himself away from him but did not break their glare at each other. "Voldemort killed my parents. He was nothing more than a murderer."

"Hmm..." Lucius hummed to himself. "You must be very brave to mention his name... or very foolish."

"Fear of the name only increases the fear of the thing itself." Hermione interrupted and glared at Lucius.

He turned to her with a cold deadly gaze. "And you must be..." He turned to Draco who nodded shakily. "Ah... Miss Granger... Draco mentioned you to his mother once... and your parents..." He gazed over to Mr and Mrs Granger in the back of the shop who were having an engaging conversation with Arthur Weasley.

"Ah... _Muggles_." Lucius said with disgust before turning to Ron and Ginny.

"Let me see... Red hair, vacant expressions... Tatty second hand book... You two must be Weasleys."

Arthur Weasley spotted the commotion and came struggling over with Fred and George. "Children. It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Ah — Weasley senior." Lucius said mockingly.

"Lucius," said Arthur, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur," said Lucius. "All those _extra_ raids... I do hope they're paying you overtime..."

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_.

"But judging by the state of _this_ , obviously not," Lucius said darkly. "What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of a wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Arthur Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of a wizard, Lucius." he said.

"Clearly," said Lucius, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "Ah... Associated with muggles... and I thought your family could sink no lower."

Arthur was about to throw himself at Lucius for such a comment but Killian stepped in between them.

"Oh but here's where you're mistaken _Mister Malfoy_." He said mockingly. "The lowest anyone could ever step is to associate themselves with _you_."

Lucius' dark smiled flinched slightly as he glared at Killian. Killian just smiled back innocently which seemed to anger him even more.

"Ah... It's you again, Mr Charming." He glared at him darkly. "Didn't your parents ever teach you what proper respect is."

"Oh they did, sir. And frankly, you don't deserve it."

“How dare you take that tone with me. Mr Charming. Don’t you know who I am?” He said coldly but his dark smile was still on.

“Why of course. The _infamous_ Lord of Malfoy Manor...” he stepped closer to him now. “You can go now. It seems that your presence is here no longer welcome.”

Lucius looked around as people had gathered around to see the commotion between the two, he smirked darkly as he backed away silently. He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl...take your book, it's the best your father can give you." He angrily beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop. Draco smiled at Killian as he reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Draco mouthed a small _thank you_ before leaving with his father.

"He's rotten to the core, everyone knows that, and poor Draco has to put up with that every single day." Killian said angrily as he stared at the door after they had left

"Come on let's go." Harry sighed as he put a hand on Killian's shoulder.

They hurried up the street, the Grangers looking around still in awe and Mrs. Weasley beside them with glee, still swooning over Lockhart. But it was a subdued group that headed back to the fireside in the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry, Killian the Weasleys, and all their shopping would be traveling back to the Burrow using Floo powder. They said good-bye to the Grangers, who were leaving the pub for the Muggle Street on the other side; Mr. Weasley started to ask them how bus stops worked, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs. Weasley's annoyed face.

Harry took off his glasses and put them safely in his pocket before helping himself to Floo powder. It definitely wasn't his favorite way to travel.


	5. The Whomping Willow

The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for Harry's liking. He was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but this month at the Burrow had been the happiest of his life. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Ron when he thought of the Dursleys and the sort of welcome he could expect next time he turned up on Privet Drive, Killian assured Harry that he would try to get him out of there as soon as possible, to which Harry could only hope to be true.

On their last evening, Mrs. Weasley conjured up a sumptuous dinner that included all of Harry's favourite things, ending with a mouth-watering treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed.

...

That night, Harry couldn't sleep. He was so eager to return to Hogwarts he was keeping Killian awake all night, much to his dismay and complaining, Harry kept talking about all the things he could do when he gets back.

"-and then we could probably go up to the 7th floor and explore, I heard there's a secret room-"

"Harry! Please let me sleep!" Killian laughed.

"Ok, sorry."

It was only silent for a few seconds before he started rambling again.

"Snape probably still hates me, I wonder if-"

"HARRY!"

"Ok ok... goodnight Killian."

"Goodnight Harry." He chucked back.

It took a long while to get started next morning. They were up at dawn, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs. Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands; and Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ginny's trunk to the car.

Harry couldn't see how eight people, seven large trunks, two owls, one raven and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia. He had reckoned, of course, without the special features that Mr. Weasley had added.

"Not a word to Molly," he whispered to Harry as he opened the trunk and showed him how it had been magically expanded so that the luggage fitted easily.

When at last they were all in the car, Mrs. Weasley glanced into the back seat, where Killian, Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Percy were all sitting comfortably side by side, and said, "Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" She and Ginny got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"

Mr. Weasley started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard, Harry turning back for a last look at the house. He barely had time to wonder when he'd see it again when they were back. George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Fred could run in for his broomstick. They had almost reached the highway when Ginny shrieked that she'd left her diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, they were running very late, and tempers were running high.

Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch and then at his wife.

"Molly, dear —"

"No, Arthur —–"

"No one would see — this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed — that'd get us up in the air — then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser —"

"I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight —"

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station.

Harry had caught the Hogwarts Express the previous year. The tricky part was getting onto platform nine and three-quarters, which wasn't visible to the Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing.

"Percy first," said Mrs. Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes left. Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasley went next; Fred and George followed.

"I'll take Ginny and you three come right after us," Mrs. Weasley told Harry and Ron, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

Killian went next, "We've got to hurry." He said in a panic before he broke into a run and disappeared.

"Let's go together, we've only got a minute," Ron said to Harry.

Harry made sure that Hedwig's cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier. He felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and — CRASH.

Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Harry was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; people all around them stared and a guard nearby yelled.

"What in blazes d'you think you're doing?" The guard was red with anger and confusion.

"Sorry. Lost control... of the trolley," Harry gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up. Ron ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.

"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed to Ron.

"I dunno, the gateway sealed itself for some reason—"

Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them.

"We're going to miss the train," Ron whispered. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself —"

Harry looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.  He wheeled his trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might. The metal remained solid.

They only had one minute left.

Suddenly, Killian jumped out from the barrier, his trunks and Eris were obviously on the train already. He was red with anger, Harry had never seen him so red before.

He breathed a huge intake of breath. "WHERE. THE HELL. WERE YOU TWO?"

Ron and Harry didn't dare to reply and before they could explain, Killian took their hands and dragged them to the barrier, only for him to go face first into the brick stone wall.

He dropped their hands and touched the wall where the barrier was. He looked at Harry and Ron and then back at the stone wall.

"Shit."

That moment the clock struck eleven. They were in trouble. In big trouble. The train had left.

"The train leaves at exactly eleven o'clock we've missed it!" Harry said, panicking.

"It's gone," said Ron, sounding stunned. "The train's left, Harry. Have you got any Muggle money? Harry? Killian?"

Harry gave a hollow laughed. "The Dursleys haven't given me pocket money for about six years."

"Killian? If we can't get through, maybe Mum and Dad can't get back through to us. Is that possible?"

He was still facing the barrier and was at a loss for words. "Shut up I'm trying to think!" He said in a panic. "They should be able to since I'm able to!"

Ron pressed his ear to the cold barrier.

"Can't hear a thing," he said tensely, "What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us."

"I think we'd better go and wait by the car," said Harry. "We're attracting too much atten —"

"Harry!" said Ron, his eyes gleaming. "The car!"

  
"What about it?"

  
"We can fly the car to Hogwarts!"

"But I thought —"

"We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to school, haven't we? And even underage wizards are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy —"

"But your Mum and Dad..." said Harry, pushing against the barrier again in the vain hope that it would give way. "How will they get home?"

"They don't need the car!" said Ron impatiently. "They know how to Apparate! You know, just vanish and reappear at home! They only bother with Floo powder and the car because we're all underage and we're not allowed to Apparate yet... wait... Killian, you're technically of age, am I right? You can Apparate us!"

"I can't I'm afraid. It's too risky." Killian said with a sigh. "I can only Apparate myself at the moment, my magic's not strong enough to sustain two people at the same time."

"It's settled then, we'll fly the car!"

Killian stepped in front of Ron. "NO!" He said sharply.

"What other choice do we have?"

"We can wait."

"What if they don't come back? What if the barrier's blocked completely?"

"ARGH! Just wait!" He said before examining the barrier again.

Harry's feeling of panic turned suddenly to excitement.

"Can you fly it?"

"No, problem," said Ron, wheeling his trolley around to face the exit. "I'll drive."

Killian looked at him again. "No."

"I know how!"

"NO! JUST WAIT!"

"Okay we will... but Killian please, can you at least Apparate to the train station and tell Mum and Dad and the others what happened? You can Apparate back with them afterwards. Don't worry about us!"

Killian sighed and looked at the pair of them. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Killian made sure no one was looking before he turned his heel and disappeared into thin air.

Ron started pushing trolley and ushered for Harry to come with. "C'mon, let's go. If we hurry we'll be able to follow the Hogwarts Express —"

"What? Aren't we going to wait for them?"

"What if they can't Apparate back? We're wasting time! Let's just go!"

And they marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and back onto the side road where the old Ford Anglia was parked.

Ron unlocked the cavernous trunk with a series of taps from his wand. They heaved their luggage back in, put Hedwig on the back seat, and got into the front.

"Check that no one's watching," said Ron, starting the ignition with another tap of his wand. Harry stuck his head out of the window: Traffic was rumbling along the main road ahead, but their street was empty.

"Okay," he said.

Ron pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around them vanished — and so did they. Harry could feel the seat vibrating beneath him, hear the engine, feel his hands on his knees and his glasses on his nose, but for all he could see, he had become a pair of eyeballs, floating a few feet above the ground in a dingy street full of parked cars.

"Let's go," said Ron's voice from his right.

And the ground and the dirty buildings on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of London lay, smoky and glittering, below them.

Then there was a popping noise and the car, Harry, and Ron reappeared.

"Uh-oh," said Ron, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. "It's faulty —"

"Uh... Ron? I should tell you, most muggles aren't accustomed to seeing a flying car!"

"Uh... right!"

The two of them pummelled it. The car vanished. Then it flickered back again.

"Hold on!"  Ron yelled, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator; they shot straight into the low, woolly clouds and everything turned dull and foggy.

"Now what?" said Harry, blinking at the solid mass of cloud pressing in on them from all sides.

"We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," said Ron.

They dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in their seats, squinting at the ground.

"I can see it!" Harry yelled. "Right ahead — there!"

The Hogwarts Express was streaking along below them like a scarlet snake.

"Due north," said Ron, checking the compass on the dashboard. "Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half hour or so — hold on —"

And they shot up through the clouds. A minute later, they burst out into a blaze of sunlight.

It was a different world. The wheels of the car skimmed the sea of fluffy cloud, the sky a bright, endless blue under the blinding white sun.

"All we've got to worry about now are airplanes," said Ron.

They looked at each other and started to laugh; for a long time, they couldn't stop.

...

Meanwhile, not everyone was laughing. Killian had apparated to the station and was approached by an extremely frantic Molly Weasley.

"Oh dear! Killian! What happened? Where are Ron and Harry? Oh are you hurt? Are they hurt?"

Arthur came up beside her and looked at Killian with equal worry on his face.

"Molly, please calm down. The barrier has been blocked and they are still outside. We don't know what happened but we have to go!"

They both nodded and the three of them disappeared back onto King's cross platform 9 and 10. They looked around but there was no sight of Harry or Ron. Killian cursed under his breath before running out to where the car was parked, Molly and Arthur followed and let out a gasp when they saw that the car was no longer there.

"Those stupid little, ARGH!" Killian raged, he turned to Molly and Arthur who wore an expression of both anger and worry.

"RONALD WEASLEY!!" Molly cursed to herself. "OH YOU'RE IN BIG TROUBLE YOUNG MAN!"

Killian sighed loudly, and Molly, hearing this, stepped up and gave Killian a reassuring hug when she noticed how worried he was.

"Don't worry dear. They'll be fine." She sighed before speaking angrily. "It's the fact that they could be caught that worries and angers me!"

She turned to Arthur who seemed to be worried of their situation as well.

"Killian, dear, go back onto the train first. Please don't worry, we'll find a way to deal with this, they will be fine, I'm sure of it!" Molly told Killian.

Killian looked hesitant but Arthur gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "They'll be fine. Don't worry."

Killian nodded before turning his heel and disappearing.

Molly let out an exhausted sigh before turning to Arthur.

"Are you sure they'll be fine, dear?"

"I don't know." He said worriedly. "I hope they will be."

"Well Ronald is sure as hell in big trouble this time." She said angrily as she stormed off, her husband followed shakily.

...

Killian apparated into a random carriage of first year girls. The girls screamed and ran out but only one left behind, reading a copy of Newt Scamander's "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" not even flinching as she gave Killian a smile.

Killian smiled back and wondered where in the train he was, he had to look for Hermione and Draco as soon as possible.

As if the girl in the compartment read his mind she told him softly "If you're looking for second years they're two carriages down. The Nargles told me."

Killian smiled at her, no time for chit chat now. He thought, before exiting the compartment and made his was down to the second-year carriage. 

After what seemed like ages, he finally came to Hermione's compartment, she was sitting with Neville, who was sleeping soundly with earmuffs Hermione was looking out the window and looked worried sick, when she spotted Killian she sprang up from her seat in a rush and hugged him.

"Thank God you're okay." She looked around him. "Wait- where's Harry and Ron?"

"The two idiots decided to go on a little adventure involving a flying car even though I explicably told them not to!" He grunted and sighed.

"What? Are they trying to get themselves killed?"

"I hope not!" He said as he sat down onto the seat opposite Neville. "God I hope they're okay."

There was a knock on the compartment door as someone came in and looked at Hermione, she was blocking Killian's view but Killian recognised that voice anywhere.

"Granger, have you seen Killian anywhere?" Draco sounded worried sick. "I haven't seen him-"

"I'm here, Draco. Don't worry." Killian said to him as Hermione moved away.

Draco rushed forward and gave Killian a hug, which startled Neville awake. "Oh thank Merlin you're okay! I saw you get off the train but I didn't see you come back on."

Killian just sighed and patted him on the head. Draco, suddenly aware that Neville and Hermione were watching him, stood up and straightened himself. Hermione chucked as Neville blinked twice and went back to sleep. Draco relaxed instantly.

"Still putting up your 'Slytherin prince' act?" Killian's worry calmed down a bit and he laughed "And I thought Harry was exaggerating when he told me how you greeted him in Flourish and Bolts."

Darco grunted, seemingly annoyed. "Speaking of which, where is Potter?"

Killian's anger and worry returned in an instant as Draco stepped back a bit, he looked at Hermione but she just shook her head.

"The two idiots are on a little adventure of theirs!" He said sarcastically. "Which just so happens to involve a flying car which could get them seriously hurt!"

Draco grinned at the mention of a flying car, he had always wanted to drive one. "Wicked."

Killian turned to him and his face was pure anger. "No! It is not 'wicked' Draco! It is anything but 'wicked'!"

Draco sighed and sat down next to Killian and gave him a hug, Hermione handed Killian a chocolate frog to which he chewed sadly.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine, they'll be fine." 

...

They were more than fine.

It was as though they had been plunged into a fabulous dream. This, thought Harry, was surely the only way to travel — past swirls and turrets of snowy cloud, in a car full of hot, bright sunlight, with a fat pack of toffees in the glove compartment, and the prospect of seeing Fred's and George's jealous faces when they landed smoothly and spectacularly on the sweeping lawn in front of Hogwarts castle.

They made regular checks on the train as they flew farther and farther north, each dip beneath the clouds showing them a different view.

Several uneventful hours later, however, Harry had to admit that some of the fun was wearing off. The toffees had made them extremely thirsty and they had nothing to drink. He had stopped noticing the fantastic cloud shapes now and was thinking longingly of the train miles below, where you could buy ice-cold pumpkin juice from a trolley pushed by a plump witch. Why hadn't they been able to get onto platform nine and three-quarters?

"Can't be much further, can it?" croaked Ron, hours later still, as the sun started to sink into their floor of cloud, staining it a deep pink. "Ready for another check on the train?"

It was still right below them, winding its way past a snowcapped mountain. It was much darker beneath the canopy of clouds.

Ron put his foot on the accelerator and drove them upward again, but as he did so, the engine began to whine.

Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances.

"It's probably just tired," said Ron. "It's never been this far before..."

And they both pretended not to notice the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became steadily darker. Stars were blossoming in the blackness. Harry pulled his sweater back on, trying to ignore the way the windshield wipers were now waving feebly, as though in protest.

"Not far," said Ron, more to the car than to Harry, "not far now," and he patted the dashboard nervously.

When they flew back beneath the clouds a little while later, they had to squint through the darkness for a landmark they knew.

"There!" Harry shouted, making Ron and Hedwig jump. "Straight ahead!"

Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake, stood the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle.

Ron grinned. "Welcome home." They both smiled but the car had begun to shudder and was losing speed.

"Come on," Ron said cajolingly, giving the steering wheel a little shake, "nearly there, come on —"

The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam were issuing from under the hood. Harry found himself gripping the edges of his seat very hard as they flew toward the lake.

The car gave a nasty wobble. Glancing out of his window, Harry saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, a mile below. Ron's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The car wobbled again.

"Come on," Ron muttered.

They were over the lake — the castle was right ahead — Ron put his foot down.

There was a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine died completely.

"Uh-oh," said Ron, into the silence.

The nose of the car dropped. They were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall.

"Noooooo!" Ron yelled, swinging the steering wheel around; they missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, and then out over the black lawns, losing altitude all the time.

Ron let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled his wand out of his back pocket —

"STOP! STOP!" he yelled, whacking the dashboard and the windshield, but they were still plummeting, the ground flying up toward them —

"WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!" Harry bellowed, lunging for the steering wheel, but too late —

CRUNCH.

With an earsplitting bang of metal on wood, they hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled hood; Hedwig was shrieking in terror; a golfball-size lump was throbbing on Harry's head where he had hit the windshield; and to his right, Ron let out a low, despairing groan.

"Are you okay?" Harry said urgently.

"My wand," said Ron, in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand —"

It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters.

"Be thankful it wasn't your neck." Harry said, still shaken.

At that very moment, something hit his side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending him lurching sideways into Ron, just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

"What's happen —?"

Ron gasped, staring through the windshield, and Harry looked around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree they had hit was attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummeling every inch of the car it could reach.

"Aaargh!" said Ron as another twisted limb punched a large dent into his door; the windshield was now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving in.

"Run for it!" Ron shouted, throwing his full weight against his door, but next second he had been knocked backward into Harry's lap by a vicious uppercut from another branch.

"We're done for!" he moaned as the ceiling sagged, but suddenly the floor of the car was vibrating — the engine had restarted.

"Reverse!" Harry yelled, and the car shot backward; the tree was still trying to hit them; they could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at them as they sped out of reach.

"That," panted Ron, "was close. Well done, car —"

The car, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two sharp clunks, the doors flew open and Harry felt his seat tip sideways: Next thing he knew he was sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told him that the car was ejecting their luggage from the trunk; Hedwig's cage flew through the air and burst open; she rose out of it with an angry screech and sped off toward the castle without a backward look. Then, dented, scratched, and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

"Come back!" Ron yelled after it, brandishing his broken wand. "Dad'll kill me!" But the car disappeared from view with one last snort from its exhaust.

"Can you believe our luck?" said Ron miserably, bending down to pick up Scabbers. "Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back."

He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still flailing its branches threateningly.

"Come on," said Harry wearily, "we'd better get up to the school..."

Killian's raven, Eris stood by a tree from afar, looking at Harry and Ron as they walked towards the castle, it flew back to the castle quietly.

It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival they had pictured. Stiff, cold, and bruised, they seized the ends of their trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors.

"I think the feast's already started," said Ron, dropping his trunk at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. "Hey — Harry — come and look — it's the Sorting!"

Harry hurried over and, together, he and Ron peered in at the Great Hall.

Innumerable candles were hovering in midair over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars.

Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Harry saw a long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.

A very small, mousy-haired boy had been called forward to place the hat on his head. Harry's eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, Harry saw Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.

"Hang on..." Harry muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table... Where's Snape?"

Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the teachers and students from his own house (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions.

"Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully.

"Maybe he's left," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!"

"Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically.

"I mean, everyone hates him —"

"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."

Harry spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze, stood Severus Snape. He was sneering in a way that told Harry he and Ron were in very deep trouble.

"Follow me," said Snape.

Not daring even to look at each other, Harry and Ron followed Snape up the steps into the vast, echoing entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great Hall, but Snape led them away from the warmth and light, down a narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons.

"In!" he said, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and pointing.

They entered Snape's office, shivering. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars, in which floated all manner of revolting things Harry didn't really want to know the name of at the moment. The fireplace was dark and empty. Snape closed the door and turned to look at them.

"So," he said angrily, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?"

"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it —"

"Silence!" said Snape coldly. "What have you done with the car?" Ron gulped. This wasn't the first time Snape had given Harry the impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, he understood, as Snape unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet.

"You were seen," he hissed, showing them the headline:

FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES.

"By no less than seven muggles!"

He turned to Ron, his face still angry and red. "I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?" he shouted, looking up at Ron and he was red with anger. "Pathetic... his own son..."

Harry felt as though he'd just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's larger branches. If anyone found out Mr. Weasley had bewitched the car... he hadn't thought of that...

"Do you have any idea how serious this is?" Snape went on. "You have risked the exposure of our world! Not to mention the damage you have inflicted on a whomping willow that has been on these grounds ever since before you were even born!"

"Honestly, Professor Snape —" Ron blurted out shakily. "I think it did more damage to us."

"Silence!" snapped Snape again. "I assure you, that we're you in Slytherin and your fate rested with me, the both of you would be on the train home, tonight. As it is—"

"They are not." There stood the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore by the office door with McGonagall. Harry had seen Professor McGonagall angry on several occasions, but either he had forgotten just how thin her mouth could go, or he had never seen her this angry before. Harry's whole body went numb. Dumbledore was looking unusually grave. He stared down his very crooked nose at them, and Harry suddenly found himself wishing he and Ron were still being beaten up by the Whomping Willow.

"Headmaster." Snape greeted him before pointing at Ron and Harry and glaring at them again. "These boys have flouted the decree for the restriction of underage wizardry, as such—"

Dumbledore held up his hand and said, "I am well aware of our bylaws, Severus. Having written quite a few of them myself."

He looked at Snape with a smile but then his tone changed to something more serious. "However, as head of Gryffindor house, it is for Professor McGonagall to determine the... appropriate action."

Snape shot a look of pure venom and disappointment at Harry and Ron as he allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Professor McGonagall, who was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle.

McGonagall turned to the two boys, she didn't shout, but only spoke coldly. "I am very disappointed in you two."

"Worst of all... is that your brother, Mr Potter... sent us a letter, informing us of your failure to get on the train, and according to his words he told you precisely not to fly that car!" She shook her head in disappointment. "I do hope you two have at least a rather good explanation to all this nonsense."

It would have been better if they had shouted. Harry hated the disappointment in his voice. For some reason, he was unable to look Dumbledore in the eyes, and spoke instead to his knees. He told them everything except that Mr. Weasley owned the bewitched car, making it sound as though he and Ron had happened to find a flying car parked outside the station. He knew Dumbledore would see through this at once, but Dumbledore asked no questions about the car. When Harry had finished, he merely continued to peer at them through his spectacles.

"We'll go and get our stuff then," said Ron in a hopeless sort of voice.

"What are you talking about, Mr Weasley?" barked Professor McGonagall.

"You're going to expel us, aren't you?" said Ron, not daring to meet her gaze.

Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, but he was sure she had almost smiled. Her mouth looked less thin, anyway.  "Not today, Mr. Weasley," she said.

Ron and Harry looked at each other with mouths open, shocked at what they're hearing.

"But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done." They both nodded hastily. "I will be writing to both your families tonight and you will both receive detention."

It was better than Harry had expected. As for Dumbledore's writing to the Dursleys, that was nothing. Harry knew perfectly well they'd just be disappointed that the Whomping Willow hadn't squashed him flat.

"You'd better get along to the hospital wing, Weasley, you're bleeding."

"Not much," said Ron, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve.

"Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted —"

"The Sorting Ceremony is over," said Professor McGonagall. "Your sister is also in Gryffindor."

"Oh, good," said Ron.

Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared with a pop.

"You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory," she said. "I must also return to the feast and inform your brother, Mr Potter, of your arrival."

When the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle. "I thought we'd had it," he said, grabbing a sandwich.

"So did I," said Harry, taking one, too.

"Can you believe our luck, though?" said Ron thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. He swallowed and took another huge bite.

Harry shrugged. "We'll have to watch our step from now on, though," he said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice. "Wish we could've gone up to the feast..."

"She didn't want us showing off," said Ron sagely. "Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car."

"Because it was NOT clever at all." A voice said from the door as they turned to look. "It was plain stupid and idiotic."

Killian was storming towards them, face full of anger. Ron whimpered and Harry had his head down. Killian looked at them before sighing, and spoke softly.

"Are you two hurt? Are you two alright?"

"We're fine." Harry smiled at him.

"Just a few cuts." Ron showed him his eye.

"But we're fine."

Killian smiled and nodded. "Good." His smile then turned into an angry frown before hitting them both hard on the head with the rolled up newspaper from Snape's table. 

"Ow! What was that for?" Ron complained.

"That!" Killian sighed angrily and looked at the two of them. "Was for your inconsistency of following simple orders! Which part of 'wait here' do you not understand?!"

"We didn't mean to!"

"Yeah! We swear! We didn't know!"

"And this!" He said, ignoring their pleads and hitting them again with the newspaper "Is for your serious lack of judgement."

"We're sorry, really!" Harry said sheepishly, hoping to calm him down. "We just thought you couldn't apparate back."

He stood there, red with anger. Killian and Harry didn't dare say a word as he stormed back out of the office, before he left he looked back at them, and with a sigh, got back in front of them and pulled them in for a hug.

"I'm relieved." He sighed. "That you're at least okay."

The two apologised again and hugged Killian back, before he returned to the feast in the great hall.

When they had eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate kept refilling itself) they rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached. "Er —" said Harry.

They didn't know the new year's password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hermione dashing toward them.

"There you are! Where have you been? Killian told me your stupid acts! Are you expelled?!"

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assured her.

"How many times do I have to tell you that—" said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.

"Skip the lecture," said Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password."

"It's 'wattlebird,'" said Hermione impatiently, "but that's not the point —"

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione to scramble in after them.

"Brilliant!" yelled Lee Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years —"

"Good for you," said a fifth year Harry had never spoken to; someone was patting him on the back as though he'd just won a marathon; Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, "Why couldn't we've come in the car, eh?"

Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Harry could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Percy was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling them off. Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and nodded in Percy's direction. Ron got the point at once.

"Got to get upstairs — bit tired," he said, and the two of them started pushing their way toward the door on the other side of the room, which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.

"'Night," Harry called back to Hermione, who was wearing a scowl just like Percy's.

They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase. They hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying SECOND YEARS. They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their beds.

Ron grinned guiltily at Harry.

"I know I shouldn't've enjoyed that or anything, but..."

The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom.

"Unbelievable!" beamed Seamus.

"Cool," said Dean.

"Amazing," said Neville, awestruck. Harry couldn't help it. He grinned, too.

...

Back down in the Slytherin dungeons, Killian had come back to the dormitory after his little visit with Harry and Ron, he was still pissed as hell but was less worried now they were actually safe and unharmed. He walked up to him room that he was sharing with Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. He tumbled himself onto the bed and sighed happily, worry being lifted off his shoulders as he dozed off.

Twenty minutes later he heard the commotion outside as people started coming back from the great hall. Draco and Blaise came into the room noisy talking about the new DADA teacher, Gildeory Lockhart.

"—wipe that stupid smile off his face." Draco was saying when he spotted Killian on the bed, rubbing his eyes at being awoken.

"Oh, so this is where you ran off to." Blaise chuckled. "Right. I'm going to catch up with Pansy." He left the room and closed the door before proceeding down to the common room to talk to his friend.

Draco smiled at Killian before sitting next to him on his bed, laughing at his sleepy eyes and messy hair.

"Tired?"

Killian looked at Draco, unamused before pointing at his hair, then at his clothes, which were all messed and crunched up. "What do you think?"

Draco laughed. "I'll take that as a yes."

Killian hit him playfully before slumping back into his pillow.

"God, at least I'm finally able to get some sleep knowing the two troublemakers made it back alright." He said sleepily.

"Are they okay?"

"Luckily."

"Told you they'd be fine." Draco smiled at him before standing up and walking to his own bed. "Have an early night, you deserve it." 

Killian muttered a thank you before picking up his wand and waving it, his school robes instantly changed into pyjamas and he shuffled under the covers and fell asleep instantly. Draco laughed silently before leaving the room and closing the door quietly to go down and catch up with his friends.


	6. Gilderoy Lockhart

The next day, however, Harry barely grinned once. Things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling ( _today, a dull, cloudy grey_ ). Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the way she said "Morning," which told Harry that she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived. Killian, thankfully on the other hand, had seemingly forgiven their little reckless adventure and had greeted them cheerfully before heading off the Slytherin table.

Suddenly, Dean Thomas tapped Ron on the shoulder and pointed into the air. "Ron, is that your owl?"

Harry had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a screeching sound overhead and an owl flew and crashed right into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.

"Errol!" said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, Unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak. "Bloody bird's a menace!"

He took one look at the letter envelope before dropping it again and started shivering with fear.

"Oh, no —" Ron gasped.

Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to Harry, but Ron and Neville were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode.

"Look everyone!" Seamus Finnegan said with a cheeky smile. "Weasley's got himself a howler!"

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and" — he gulped —"it was horrible."

Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. A split second later, Harry knew why. He thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"RONALD WEASLEY—"

Mrs. Weasleys yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen, the letter floated in mid-air and transfigured itself to form the shape of a mouth.

"—HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY. YOUR. FAULT."

Harry tried very hard to look as though he couldn't hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb.

"—IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"

Ron nodded shakily as the letter turned to Ginny and spoke in a much softer voice.

"— oh and Ginny dear, congratulations on making Gryffindor! Your father and I are so proud."

Ginny went beet red and smiled hastily, hoping the embarrassment would be over soon. The letter stuck it's tongue out at Ron before proceeding to tear itself up.

A ringing silence fell. Harry and Ron sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again. Hermione was speechless and looked at Ron while shaking her head sadly.

Harry pushed his porridge away. His insides were burning with guilt. Mr. Weasley was facing an inquiry at work. Suddenly there was another screech and Killian's raven, Eris came swopping down the table between Harry and Ron with a piece of paper. Harry took the paper and opened it.

_You two definitely deserved that, but just to make sure, are you two okay?_

Harry looked over to the Slytherin table and saw Killian looking back with empathy, next to Draco, who was sniggering quietly, but gave a apologetic smile when Harry and Ron looked at him. Harry gave Killian a weak smile but Ron just shook his head at him. Killian frowned and wrote on another piece of paper before calling for Eris to deliver it.

_Meet me outside the great hall after breakfast._

Harry and Ron nodded at him while Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. Harry took his and saw that they had double Herbology with the Slytherins first.

...

After breakfast they exited the great hall with Hermione and Killian gave Ron a hug and a pat on the shoulder the moment he saw them walking out. He was walking with Draco and for once, Draco didn't say anything or joke about anything to Ron.

"Still shaken?"

Ron just nodded.

He sighed looked at Harry with a questioning look, to which Harry returned with a shrug.

"If it makes you feel any better, Weasley," Draco spoke up. "I got a howler from my father once."

Ron smiled and laughed weakly, before the five left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept.

As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. He five had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt, Harry spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings. Killian sensed his guilt and gave him a pat on the back and put his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a smile. Harry smiled in return, but was still raging with guilt and the worry he had caused Killian.

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before — greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling.

Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-coloured ear muffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air. Draco scoffed and Hermione gave him a glare.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Hermione's hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot up again.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it," she said promptly.

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in colour, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn't have the slightest idea what Hermione meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly. "However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back... Four to a tray — there is a large supply of pots here — compost in the sacks over there — and be careful of the Venomous Tentacles, it's teething."

She split the class into groups of four. Harry, Hermione and Ron naturally paired up while Killian paired up with Draco, Pansy and Neville, who Killian had ushered him to join since he was looking around timidly for partners. Crabbe and Goyle paired up with Dean and Seamus, much to their dismay.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a dark-skinned Slytherin boy Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to.

"Blaise Zabini," he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter... And you're Hermione Granger — always top in everything" (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) "— and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"

Ron didn't smile. The Howler was obviously still on his mind.

"Killian, Draco and I shared a dorm together last year, Killian's told us all about you three. You three make quite the trio, don't you think?" He smiled.

The three smiled back, happy by the fact that there can actually be a nice Slytherin aside from Killian and ( _sometimes_ ) Draco.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" said Blaise, sounding annoyed, as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully narcissistic chap. Have you read his books? Cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, yet here he doesn't look or sound like anything people say— honestly ridiculous.

After that they didn't have much chance to talk.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right — earmuffs on."

Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear. Neville took one look at the Mandrake before toppling over and fainted.

Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.

"Merlin, it's so ugly I almost feel sorry for it." Pansy said to herself, unaware half the class was thinking the same thing.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

She took one look at Neville and sighed. "Longbottom's neglected his earmuffs hasn't he?"

Killian shook his head at the professor and laughed lightly. "No ma'am, he's just fainted."

She sighed heavily before pinching her forehead. "Yes, well, just leave him there."

Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; Harry and Ron spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot. Hermione and Blaise got everything done in less than two minutes, earning each house another ten points. Killian couldn't help but laugh when Draco started playing with the Mandrake, only for both of them to gasp when the Mandrake bit hard onto Draco's finger when he unconsciously put it in the Mandrake's mouth. It took Killian all his might to pull his finger out without hurting him or the Mandrake. Draco was clutching onto his finger for the rest of the lesson, looking in pain.

By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Professor Sprout cleaned everyone up with a wave of her wand before the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration and the Slytherin to Charms.

On the way to Charms, Draco was still clenching his finger as Killian walked beside him.

"Here, let me have a look." He said to Draco when he noticed him still clutching his finger.

"What good will that do?" He sounded in pain. "It's not like you can just take one look at it and it'll go away."

"Oh just let me see." Killian snatched Draco's hands and unwrapped his other hand clutching his finger. It was bleeding. Quite badly.

"Merlin, it's worse than I thought," Killian looked up to Draco and asked softly. "Does it hurt a lot?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, it's completely painless, I don't feel a thing!" He said sarcastically.

Killian laughed before taking his wand out. "I'm going to clean it then bandage it up for you okay?"

"Okay mum." Draco said and rolled his eyes again.

Killian laughed quietly to himself before looking at Draco warmly. "This might hurt a bit."

Draco winced as Killian cleaned his wound using a disinfectant charm. But Killian grasped his arm as he told him warmly. "Hey, it's fine. Look at me."

Draco looked up to see Killian smiling warmly at him, grey eyes staring into purple ones as Draco's stomach filled with butterflies, he didn't know what that meant but he couldn't take his eyes off Killian, even as Killian looked down to bandage up his finger.

"There. All done." Killian smiled.

Killian looked back up to see Draco staring at him and laughed a little, to which Draco blushed deeply and looked away. Killian only smiled as he threw an arm round Draco's shoulder and made their way to the Charms classroom.

"Th-Thanks Killian." Draco said after a while of silence.

"Anytime, Draco." He smiled back.

...

Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand.

Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick grey smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.

Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone filed out of the classroom except him and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid — useless — thing —"

"Write home for another one," Harry suggested as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.

"Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back," said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag.

"It's your own fault your wand got snapped—"

They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione's showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.

"What've we got this afternoon?" said Harry, hastily changing the subject.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins." said Hermione at once.

"Why," demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.

They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes before Harry became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw the very small, mousy-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.

"All right, Harry? I'm — I'm Colin Creevey," he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think — would it be all right if— I can have a picture?" he said, raising the camera hopefully.

"A picture?" Harry repeated blankly.

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" ( _his eyes raked Harry's hairline_ ) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you" — he looked imploringly at Harry — "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?"

Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, followed, as he always was at Hogwarts when Killian wasn't with him, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Everyone line up!" Draco jokingly roared to the crowd. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry annoyed, his fists clenching. "Now's note the time, Malfoy."

Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly. But Draco took one proper look at him before his sneer turned into a face of concern.

"Sorry, I was just kidding. Are you okay?" He whispered to him.

Harry sighed. "I'm just tired. Sorry."

Draco nodded understandingly but Crabbe and Goyle were laughing even louder now.

"Eat slugs, you pigs," said Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Crabbe.

Goyle sniggered. "That's right, you don't want to start any trouble or your Mummy will have to come and take you away from school."

Crabbe then put on a shrill, piercing voice. "'If you put another toe out of line'—"

A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.

"Weasley would like a signed photo, Harry," smirked Goyle. "It'd be worth more than his family's whole house —"

Draco was getting annoyed now. "That's quite enough you two. Go pick on someone your own size. And stop following me all the time! You're like magnets."

Their laughing stopped almost instantaneously as they looked at each other, then back at Draco.

"Go on," Draco sneered at them, "beat it before I hex you."

They were taken aback and started to back away until a voice stopped the, in their tracks.

"So the rumours are true then."

Theodore Nott, a Slytherin second year, was walking towards Draco, head held high and he smiled evilly.

"Draco Malfoy has gone soft." He said to Draco then proceeded to push him back slightly, earning a gasp from Hermione, who now stopped reading her book and looked to see what was happening.

"What are you talking about, Nott?" Draco asked as he put on his infamous sneer.

Nott took one look at Harry, then Ron, then Hermione, then back to Draco.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" He sneered at Draco, "Not only are you defending those lowlife Gryffindors, but it appears that you have...befriended them."

Draco's sneer flinched slightly.

Hermione stood and pleaded to Draco. "Malfoy! Don't listen to him! Think of Killian! Think of your friends! Your REAL friends! Don't let him in your head!"

Nott looked at Hermione and laughed darkly. "Oh, I'm already in his head." He said before turning to Draco again.

Draco looked away, not daring to meet his gaze. Nott laughed darkly again before speaking.

"Look at you, look at you letting Crabbe and Goyle do your dirty work because you can't." Nott laughed and walked closer to him before whispering in his ear "Which is more important? Your reputation as a Malfoy? Or some lowlife Gryffindors? What would you father think if he saw you here?"

Draco backed away at those words as Nott laughed again. Harry and Ron were standing up now as Draco looked around he felt more conflicted than ever. Dark thoughts came swarming into his head, imagining the many reactions of people around him as he as crouched down, closed his eyes and put his head in his hands.

_"You are no Malfoy. You are no son of mine!"_

_"Befriending a Gryffindor? Aren't you supposed to be the Slytherin Prince?"_

_"Blood-Traitor!"_

Nott smiled darkly at his success until someone stepped in front of him and Draco and pushed him back, he slowly regained his posture and found himself looking straight into a very angry set of purple eyes.

"You better watch your mouth, Nott."

"What are you going to do about it?" Nott asked menacingly.

Killian grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up into the air, Nott's expression turned fearful as he grabbed onto Killian's wrists, afraid he would drop him. Killian looked at Nott's hand on his wrist before looking back at him.

"What  _am_  I going to do?" He asked darkly. "Have you ever tried holding your wand with broken fingers?"

Killian dropped him to the floor as Nott hurriedly scampered away. Killian stood still as a rock, looking darkly at Nott as he disappeared into the corridors of the castle. Harry came up to Killian and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

Killian's head flung back as Harry saw a flash of literal red in his eyes, he glared at him as Harry lifted his hand and backed away, Killian still glaring at him with red eyes. "K-Killian?"

Killian blinked a few times, eyes purple and released his breath. He rubbed his forehead with his hand before sitting down on a bench. He looked over at Harry.

"Sorry, I was just mad."

Harry smiled and gave him a hug.

Killian muttered a small  _thank you_  before looking around and stopped when he looked at Harry. "Where's Draco?"

Harry looked around but he wasn't there, he wasn't anywhere. Killian cursed under his breath before standing up again.

"Nott's really in for it this time."

"That was horrible, what he said." Hermione said with a sigh.

Killian nodded.

"Yeah," Ron nudged Killian, "You were so mad your eyes went literal red."

Killian turned pale as his eyes widened before backing up a bit. "R-Red?"

"Yeah. I didn't know your eyes could change colour with your emotions." He said.

"Y-Yeah. They do..." Killian said. "I-I've got to go, uh... look for Draco."

Before anyone could say anything, he dashed off. Suddenly, Lockhart was making his way to the trio with a big grin on his face.  _Someone must have told him about the fight._ Harry thought.

But the first thing that came out of Lockhart's mouth when he came was, "Who's giving out signed photos?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him.

Harry started to speak but he was cut short as Lockhart flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

Pinned to Lockhart's side and burning with humiliation, Harry saw Crabbe and Goyle slide smirking back into the crowd.

"Come on then, Mr. Creevey," said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you."

Colin fumbled for his camera, still shocked by the previous fight between Draco, Nott and Killian and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signalling the start of afternoon classes.

"Off you go, move along there," Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Harry, who was wishing he knew a good Vanishing Spell, still clasped to his side.

"A word to the wise, Harry," said Lockhart paternally as they entered the building through a side door. "I covered up for you back there with young Creevey — if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much..."

Deaf to Harry's stammers, Lockhart swept him down a corridor lined with staring students and up a staircase.

"Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible — looks a tad big-headed, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but" — he gave a little chortle — "I don't think you're quite there yet."

They had reached Lockhart's classroom and he let Harry go at last. Harry yanked his robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him, so that he could avoid looking at the real thing The rest of the class came clattering in, and Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of Harry. Killian and Draco were a little late and they sat together behind Harry. Draco looked especially gloomy and Killian had a blank expression.

"You could've fried an egg on your face" said Ron. "You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club."

"Shut up," snapped Harry. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase "Harry Potter fan club"

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books — well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in —"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes — start —now!"

Harry looked down at his paper and read:

_1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?_   
_2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_   
_3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

_54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut — hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully — I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non- magic peoples — though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

He gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name.

"... but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions — good girl! In fact" — he flipped her paper over — "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a trembling hand.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Quite excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor! And so — to business —"

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

"Now — be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

In spite of himself, Harry leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front row seat.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

Nobody screamed, Seamus Finnigan even laughed. "Cornish pixies?"

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He kept on laughing as more members of the class joined in.

"Laugh if you will, Mr Finnigan!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "But pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters!"

"Professor?" Draco asked. "Are you sure they're safe?"

Lockhart only smiled innocently. "Let's find out."

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling. Draco was sitting with Killian and bounced up immediately the moment they were released. He ran out of the classroom door as soon as possible, not wanting to deal with such disruptive creatures.

"Come on now — round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted. He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way, Lockhart was now running up to his office, he caught sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who waving books and ducking under tables, and said, "Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"Hands on?" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing —"

"Rubbish," said Hermione. "You've read his books — look at all those amazing things he's done —"

"He says he's done," Ron muttered. "Oh what are we going to do now?"

Hermione stepped from under the table in search of Killian. She caught sight of him, calm as ever while the rest of the class were screaming for their lives. Neville was still swinging on the chandelier and Draco was already out of the classroom. Killian was sitting on his desk, and he looked more tired than ever, casually swinging his wand and batting away any pixie that comes close to him.

"Killian!" Hermione shouted at him! "I need help! If we case the freezing spell together we can freeze all of them at once! Mine's not strong enough on its own."

Killian gave a small nodded before taking out his wand and stood on the table with Hermione.

" _Immobulus_!" They both shouted.

All movement in the air was frozen as the pixies stood still, everyone was calming down now as Hermione gave a small smile at Killian and her success.

Neville was still on the chandelier as everyone's attention turned to him.

He looked down helplessly and sighed. "Why is it always me?"

Harry and Ron gave a laugh as Killian slowly levitated him back down.

Hermione and Killian managed to get the pixies back in their cage when Draco came into the classroom with Snape behind him, and looked furious, he swung his black cloak around before walking to the desk and turned to the class.

He glanced around once before he spoke. "You will all leave this classroom and go straight back to your respective common rooms until further notice... Now go."

The class dispersed quickly as they all walked out, Harry looked back to see Snape walking up to Lockhart's office.

He looked over to Killian, who had been awfully quiet since the incident with Theodore Nott, and so has Draco. He didn't have much time to worry about him, because not long after they parted wars to go to their respective common rooms. 


	7. Mudbloods and Murmurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important character development for Killian which would play a extremely important role in the future books.

Harry spent a lot of time over the next few days dodging out of sight whenever he saw Gilderoy Lockhart coming down a corridor. Harder to avoid was Colin Creevey, who seemed to have memorized Harry's schedule. Nothing seemed to give Colin a bigger thrill than to say, "All right, Harry?" six or seven times a day and hear, "Hello, Colin," back, however exasperated Harry sounded when he said it. Harry also found Killian to be more quiet and expressionless than usual, every time Harry, Ron or Hermione asked him what was wrong he would just brush it off as ' _being tired_ '. Harry had tried talking to Draco, but it seems like he's been avoiding the Gryffindors as well.

Hedwig was still angry with Harry about the disastrous car journey and Ron's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Ron's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck. So with one thing and another, Harry was quite glad to reach the weekend. He, Ron, and Hermione were planning to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning. Harry, however, was shaken awake several hours earlier than he would have liked by Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Whassamatter?" said Harry groggily.

"Quidditch practice!" said Wood. "Come on!"

"Oliver," Harry croaked. "It's the crack of dawn."

"Exactly," said Wood. He was a tall and burly sixth year and, at the moment, his eyes were gleaming with a crazed enthusiasm. "It's part of our new training program. Come on, grab your broom, and let's go," said Wood heartily. "None of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year —"

Yawning and shivering slightly, Harry climbed out of bed and tried to find his Quidditch robes. "Good man," said Wood. "Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes."

When he'd found his scarlet team robes and pulled on his cloak for warmth, Harry scribbled a note to Ron explaining where he'd gone and went down the spiral staircase to the common room, his Nimbus Two Thousand on his shoulder. He had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind him and Colin Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something clutched in his hand.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harry! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you —"

Harry looked bemusedly at the photograph Colin was brandishing under his nose.

A moving, black-and-white Lockhart was tugging hard on an arm Harry recognized as his own. He was pleased to see that his photographic self was putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As Harry watched, Lockhart gave up and slumped, Panting, against the white edge of the picture.

"Will you sign it?" said Colin eagerly.

"No," said Harry flatly, glancing around to check that the room was really deserted. "Sorry, Colin, I'm in a hurry — Quidditch practice —"

He climbed through the portrait hole.

"Oh, wow! Wait for me! I've never watched a Quidditch game before!"

Colin scrambled through the hole after him.

"It'll be really boring," Harry said quickly, but Colin ignored him, his face shining with excitement.

Colin was trotting alongside him. "You must be brilliant. I've never flown. Is it easy? Is that your own broom? Is that the best one there is?"

Harry didn't know how to get rid of him. It was like having an extremely talkative shadow.

"And you're the Gryffindor Seeker, aren't you?" said Colin in awe.

"Yes," said Harry as they left the castle and started across the dew-drenched grass. "And there's the Keeper, too. He guards the goal posts. That's it, really."

But Colin didn't stop questioning Harry all the way down the sloping lawns to the Quidditch field, and Harry only shook him off when he reached the changing rooms; Colin called after him in a piping voice, "I'll go and get a good seat, Harry!" and hurried off to the stands.

The rest of the Gryffindor team were already in the changing room. Wood was the only person who looked truly awake. Fred and George Weasley were sitting, puffy-eyed and touslehaired, next to fourth year Alicia Spinnet, who seemed to be nodding off against the wall behind her. Her fellow Chasers, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, were yawning side by side opposite them.

"There you are, Harry, what kept you?" said Wood briskly. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference..."

Wood was holding up a large diagram of a Quidditch field, on which were drawn many lines, arrows, and crosses in different colored inks. He took out his wand, tapped the board, and the arrows began to wiggle over the diagram like caterpillars. As Wood launched into a speech about his new tactics, Fred Weasley's head drooped right onto Alicia Spinnet's shoulder and he began to snore.

They had been in the locker room so long that the sun was up completely now, although remnants of mist hung over the grass in the stadium. As Harry walked onto the field, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting in the stands.

"Aren't you finished yet?" called Ron incredulously.

"Haven't even started," said Harry, looking jealously at the toast and marmalade Ron and Hermione had brought out of the Great Hall. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

He mounted his broomstick and kicked at the ground, soaring up into the air. The cool morning air whipped his face, waking him far more effectively than Wood's long talk. It felt wonderful to be back on the Quidditch field. He soared right around the stadium at full speed, racing Fred and George.

"What's that funny clicking noise?" called Fred as they hurtled around the corner.

Harry looked into the stands. Colin was sitting in one of the highest seats, his camera raised, taking picture after picture, the sound strangely magnified in the deserted stadium.

"Look this way, Harry! This way!" he cried shrilly. "Who's that?" said Fred.

"No idea," Harry lied, putting on a spurt of speed that took him as far away as possible from Colin.

"What's going on?" said Wood, frowning, as he skimmed through the air toward them. "Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program."

"He's in Gryffindor," said Harry quickly.

"And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver," said George.

"What makes you say that?" said Wood testily.

"Because they're here in person," said George, pointing.  
Several people in green robes were walking onto the field, broomsticks in their hands.

"I don't believe it!" Wood hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!"

Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Easy, Wood," said Flint. "I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape."

Wood snatched the note and read out loud "I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker. "

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Who?"

And from behind the five large figures before them came a sixth, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy. But there was something different, Harry sensed coldness and anger from him, not the usual joking and happy Draco that he usually had fun and banter with.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked? "I thought Killian was seeker, where is he?"

Draco smirked smugly. "That's right, he was, he gave me the position, he's playing as Chaser this year, and he's not here yet, can't you see that you blind idiot?"

"Ah, I swear we met you back in Diagon Alley with your father?" said Fred, looking at Draco.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own.

"I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives —"sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Draco was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Oh, look," said Flint. "A field invasion."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, afar from Harry and the others.

"Uh-Oh, I smell trouble." Ron said to Hermione as were crossing the grass to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Oh, hello Malfoy, didn't know you're playing this year?" He was looking at Draco, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"Yes. I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Draco, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

"Good, aren't they?" said Draco smoothly. "See Weasley? Unlike some, my father can afford  _the best_."

The Slytherin team howled with laughter. Harry Ron and Hermione had no idea what had happened for Draco to act like this, but they were not going stand there and let him talk them with that attitude.

"Well at least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione back, defending her friend . "They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered. "No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Harry knew at once that Draco had said something really bad because there was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Draco to stop Fred and George jumping on him.

Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!" and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, "I don't know what we ever did to you, but you'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Draco's face.

" _Eat slugs_!"

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"You okay Ron?" squealed Hermione. "Say something!"

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, he'll know what to do," said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms.

Colin had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front.

"Wow," said Colin, fascinated and raising his camera. "Can you turn him around, Harry?"

"No Colin, get out of the way!" said Harry angrily. He and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest.

Killian then came walking onto the quidditch field with his broom before stopping in front of the two teams just Harry, Hermione and Ron disappeared.

"Merlin, what did I miss?" He asked. "Where are they off to?"

The Slytherin team laughed louder as the Gryffindor team shook their heads and left without another word.

Killian sighed loudly before turning to Flint. "Well, I don't know what happened here but I'm going to check on them, start without me." 

Flint nodded at him and ushered for them to get started. Killian turned to Draco and gave him a warm smile before waving and going into the direction the other three went. Draco felt a pang of guilt hit him as he looked into the direction the trio and Killian had run off to and felt regret once again.  _He had messed up, again._

_..._

"Nearly there, Ron," said Hermione as the gamekeeper's cabin came into view. "You'll be all right in a minute — almost there —"

They were within twenty feet of Hagrid's house when the front door opened. Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me — come in, come in — thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again —"

Harry and Hermione supported Ron over the threshold into the one-roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire crackling merrily in the other. Hagrid didn't seem perturbed by Ron's slug problem, which Harry hastily explained as he lowered Ron into a chair.

"Better out than in," he said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of him. "Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," said Hermione anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand —"

Hagrid was bustling around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Harry.

"So tell me," said Hagrid, jerking his head at Ron. "Who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy, we don't know what's gotten over him, we were all good friends but he just stopped talking to us." Harry said, "and this morning, he called Hermione something — I don't know exactly what it means but it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild."

"He what?"

Everyone turned their heads to look at the door, Killian had just entered and he looked enraged at Harry's comment. He took one look at Hermione as she stood up and crossed her arms before turning to face away from Hagrid and the two boys. Killian rushed forward and gave her a hug, and she started crying quietly.

"What did he say to you?"

"He called me a mudblood."

Hagrid looked outraged.

"He did not'!" he growled at Hermione. 

Killian pulled back from the hug. "He said that?"

Hermione nodded.

Killian look instantly enraged as he stormed out of the cabin without another word despite Hermione's calls after him. Hagrid was shaking his head as Killian made his way back to the quidditch field to look for Draco. He didn't say another word as he slammed he cabin door.

"I hope he doesn't do anythin' reckless." Hagrid said.

"What's a mudblood?" Harry asked suddenly.

"It means 'dirty blood'," said Hermione as she turned around to face them, tears in her eyes. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born — someone with non-magic parents... someone like me... it's not a term one usually hears in a civilised conversation."

"See thing is, Harry," Hagrid told him, "there are some wizards, like Malfoy's father, who think they're bet'er than everyone else cause they're what people call 'purebloods'

"That's horrible." Harry said angrily. "No wonder Killian got so mad."

"It's disgusting," said Ron as he threw up another slug.

"And it's codswallop to birds, why there isn't a wizard alive today who's half-blood or less," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "More to ter point that yet ter think of a spell that our Hermione can't do."

Hermione blushed and wiped a tear away. She smiled at Hagrid. "Thank you."

"Come her'e" Hagrid smiled warmly and gave Hermione a big hug. "Don't you think on it Hermione. Don't you think on it fer one minute, eh?"

"Harry," said Hagrid abruptly as though struck by a sudden thought. "Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Furious, Harry wrenched his teeth apart.

"I have not been giving out signed photos," he said hotly. "If Lockhart's still spreading that around —"

But then he saw that Hagrid was laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting Harry genially on the back and sending him face first into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that," said Harry, sitting up and rubbing his chin.

"Don' think he did," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle fudge, Ron?" he added as Ron reappeared. 

"No thanks," said Ron weakly. "Better not risk it."

...

Killian has stormed angrily back to the quidditch pitch. Even Flint was taken aback, he had never seen him so angry before. Killian told him to continue the practise while he had a little chat with Draco. When Flint called Draco down from the sky, Draco took one look at Killian and knew that this could lead to nothing good in the end. He swallowed shakily and followed Killian back to their dorm room, the practise was almost over anyways and they had to get back and change into school robes.

The moment Killian stepped into his room, Blaise saw him and left without another word. Draco followed him in shakily as Killian told him to sit down. Draco obliged without another word, expecting the worst to come. Killian was going to ignore him now. He messed up again. He deserves this. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the great outburst, but what came was much different than that.

"Is it true?" He asked coldly. "Is it true you called her a mudblood?"

"Killian, listen, I—"

"Draco. Tell me. Did you call her a mudblood?"

Draco turned to look at Killian, who looked more disappointed than angry.

He dropped his head and faced the floor. "Yes, I did. I called her a mudblood."

Killian sighed and rubbed his hand on his face before stepping away to face the window.

"So I was right." He said to himself. "Because it appears that some things are more important to you than your friends! Your REAL friends!"

"Killian, please, listen." Draco pleaded. "I didn't mean to, it was just that Nott was playing with my head and whispering ideas and—"

"So what?" Killian said sternly. "He put ideas in your head but he never made you use them now did he?"

Draco snapped his mouth shut and hung his head in shame. "No... no he didn't."

"You start these fights on your own, Draco." He looked at him but Draco didn't dare to look back. "And all for what? For your reputation? For your father?"

"YES!! OKAY? YES!! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT ME TO SAY?" He snapped angrily.

Killian was taken aback a bit and sighed sadly before Draco slumped down on the bed again. "Go on... Tell me how pathetic I am..."

Killian sat down next to Draco before turning him to face him, so grey eyes met purple ones.

"That's the  _last_ thing I want you to feel."

Draco hugged him as he felt himself well up with tears. They were silent for a while before Draco pulled back and looked at Killian.

"What am I going to do? What am I going to say to Granger?"

"It's easy, Draco. Say sorry."

"It's not that simple." Draco sighed. "what if people in Slytherin hate me again? Nott already does."

Killian chuckled. "You're the 'Slytherin Prince' Draco, why would they hate you?"

"Because it's just like Nott said. I'm supposed to be this—" he waved his hand, unable to put it into words. "This vile person who thinks he's better than everyone..."

Killian sighed heavily. "Well, whatever they think of you, just know that's I'll always be here to support you." He put arm around his shoulder and Draco rested his head on Killian's shoulder.

"Thank you Killian."

Killian smiled and ruffled his hair. "The important thing now is that you know what you did was wrong, and you know what you have to do next."

Draco nodded. "I'm sorry that I ever said that... I'm sorry I called her a mudblood..." He whispered to Killian.

"It's okay... you didn't mean it, did you?"

"That's the worst part." Draco's tears fell. "I did."

...

They had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, "There you are, Potter — Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley — elbow grease."

Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school.

"And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," said Professor McGonagall.

"Oh n — Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" said Harry desperately.

"Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

Harry and Ron slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Hermione behind them, wearing a well-you-did-break-school-rules sort of expression. Harry didn't enjoy his shepherd's pie as much as he'd thought. Both he and Ron felt they'd got the worse deal.

"Filch'll have me there all night," said Ron heavily. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap anytime," said Harry hollowly. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail... he'll be a nightmare..."

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Harry was dragging his feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office. He gritted his teeth and knocked.

The door flew open at once. Lockhart beamed down at him.

"Ah, here's the scalawag!" he said. "Come in, Harry, come in —"

Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart. He had even signed a few of them. Another large pile lay on his desk.

"Harry...Harry...Harry..." Lockhart told Harry, as though this was a huge treat. "Can you possibly imagine a better way to serve detention by helping me answer my fan mail?"

"Not really." Harry replied sheepishly.

"Fame's a fickle friend, Harry," He smiled at him "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that."

The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the many moving faces of Lockhart watching him. Harry moved his aching hand over what felt like the thousandth envelope, writing out Veronica Smethley's address. It must be nearly time to leave, Harry thought miserably, please let it be nearly time...

And then he heard something — something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candles and Lockhart's prattle about his fans.

It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.

" _Come... come to me... Let me rip you.. .Let me tear you.. .Let me kill you..._ "

"What?" he said loudly in confusion and slight fear.

"Sorry?" said Lockhart, looking puzzled.

Harry looked back at him in confusion. "The voice!"

"Voice?" He looked around with confusion.

"That — that voice that said — didn't you hear it?"

Lockhart was looking at Harry in high astonishment.  
"What are you talking about, Harry? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott — no wonder! look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! Spooky how time flies when we're having fun!"

"Yeah..." Harry said as he looked around again. "Spooky..."

He was straining his ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now except for Lockhart telling him he mustn't expect a treat like this every time he got detention. Feeling dazed, Harry left.

...

It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Harry went straight up to the dormitory. Ron wasn't back yet. Harry pulled on his pajamas, got into bed, and waited. Half an hour later, Ron arrived, nursing his right arm and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened room.

"My muscles have all seized up," he groaned, sinking on his bed. "Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to get the slime off... How was it with Lockhart?"

Keeping his voice low so as not to wake Neville, Dean, and Seamus, Harry told Ron exactly what he had heard.

"And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" said Ron. Harry could see him frowning in the moonlight. "D'you think he was lying? But I don't get it — even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"I know," said Harry, lying back in his four-poster and staring at the canopy above him. "I don't get it either."

...

Sunday mornings were always a bliss for Harry. Late lie in's, no quidditch practises, no classes, and most importantly, no Gilderoy Lockhart. The best things about Sunday for Harry is that he usually spends them around castle grounds or in his bed.

Killian had invited Harry, Ron and Hermione out this afternoon to go to Hagrid's. The three skipped their way across the school grounds and knocked three times on the cabin door. 

"Hi Hagrid! Is Killian there?" Harry asked happily.

"Hello, you three! He's waitin inside so come on in." Hagrid beamed happily at the sight of them.

Each of them gave massive smiles to the giant but the smiles quickly disappeared when they stepped into the cabin. Killian was sitting down on the couch, sipping tea and reading a book when someone, none other than Draco Malfoy was sitting next to him, not looking at any of them.  Harry Hermione looked angry but Ron looked furious.

"I'll leave yer to it then." Hagrid said to Killian before leaving the five alone in the cabin. He closed the cabin door and immediately, Ron flew into a rage.

"What's that git doing here?" Ron snarled angrily.

"Ron, listen, Dra—" Killian started but was cut off.

"No I'm not going to listen! This git called Hermione a—" He waved his hand. "And you're still friends with him?"

Killian sighed before squeezing Draco's hand softly. He looked at him but Draco just hung his head down.

"Go on, Draco." Killian said softly. "It's okay."

Draco smiled weakly and stood up, facing Hermione. Ron drew his wand at him but Draco made no attempt to fight back.

"Ron," Hermione said, without looking away from Draco. "Put the wand down." 

"What? Are you serious—"

"I mean it! Put it down." Hermione said.

Ron looked back and forth between Hermione and Draco, until he hesitantly put his wand down. Draco looked up at her and sighed sadly before speaking.

"Granger... I'm... s-sorry."

"Why did you say it?" She asked back.

"I-I was thinking too selfishly of my own pride."

"How about now?"

Draco sighed. "Now... I know what I did was wrong." He looked up and her. "And I'm truly sorry for that."

Hermione was expressionless but then her lips twitched into a smile before she gave Draco a hug. "That's all I needed to hear. I forgive you."

Draco smiled and hugged back, he pulled back from the hug and turned to Killian and nodded his head awkwardly in thanks. But Killian just shook his head and gave Draco another hug.

"That wasn't so hard, wasn't it?"

Draco couldn't say anything, he was chocking with tears.  _And Merlin he was supposed to be a Malfoy, he's showing weakness to these four._ He thought.

"Don't be ashamed... I know what you're thinking." Killian sighed.  "Don't you ever think for one second that this is a sign of weakness."

"That wasn't weakness, Malfoy." Harry spoke to him for the first time since that day. "That was strength."

Draco smiled back at him before Ron spoke again with a loud exhale of breath.

"Well, if everyone's forgiving you then I guess I have no choice then." He said.

Hermione punched him in the arm in frustration, earning a small  _ow_  from Ron. 

"Calm down." He said while rubbing his arm. "I'm only joking."

But then he turned to Draco and looked him dead in the eye. "But if you hurt any of my friends again, I won't be so nice the next time."

Draco nodded.  _This was better than nothing._ He thought.

Ron smiled in reply and offered his hand to which Draco gladly took and shook it.

"Well..." Killian said amidst the awkwardness. "Now that this is out of the way, what do you say we have some tea with Hagrid?"

The four smiled joyfully in reply and Hagrid, as if he heard their thoughts, came storming back into his hut, rambling about spiders and roosters and all sorts of none sense. The five sat and listened until the sun's glow from the window was as dim as a nightlight.

"Well then... off yer go. It's gettin late." Hagrid bellowed before proceeding to force their way out of the cabin.

"Thanks for this, Hagrid." Killian said to him before leaving the door.

Hagrid smiled back at him. "Not a problem." He turned to Draco and frowned slightly. "Now don't yer go calling people those names again, alright?"

Draco nodded as Killian flung an arm around his shoulder and the five made their way back to the castle.

It was a awkward journey back. There weren't many conversations between any of them because of the situation with Draco, but Hermione and Killian tried their best to include him in the conversation.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted a black necklace around Killian's neck, he had seen him wear it in school recently but then something suddenly clicked in his brain. It was as if a switch was flicked. He had seen this way before. That was the necklace Killian had bought in Knockturn Alley.

"Killian..." He stopped abruptly in his steps to which the other four eyed him suspiciously. "Isn't that the necklace you bought in Knockturn Alley?"

Now, the other's stares were converted to Killian as his face went pale and he hung his head down immediately.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Harry shook his head in disagreement and sighed before walking up to him and tried to take his necklace out from under his robe. But Killian violently slapped his hand away. Harry looked shocked and Killian instantly apologised.

"Harry! Sorry I didn't mean to!"

"Killian... you're scaring me, what did you buy in that shop?" Draco said as he grabbed Killian's hand.

Killian didn't speak but he eyed the other four, who looked both shocked and intrigued. Long minutes passed in silence before he finally sighed.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone this." Killian said to them.

They all nodded immediately, eager to learn the truth.

Killian sighed again before walking towards a bench where they all sat down with him in the middle. He slowly took out the necklace from behind his robes, in the middle was the gemstone Harry remembered. But it wasn't black like before. It shone a dark crimson red colour.

"It's...red?" Harry said out loud and reached out to touch the gemstone, but Killian snatched it away from his grasp.

"Don't touch it." He said coldly before his tone turned warm again and placed a reassuring hand on Harry's. "You might get hurt if you do."

"I've read about this somewhere!" Hermione suddenly said with a gasp.

"Of course you have." Ron rolled his eyes.

Hermione rolled her eyes back at him before speaking again.

"That is the gemstone of balance. It's a dark artefact that can draw out the darkness in a person and controls it. Whoever possesses the gemstone will have the ability to control the person bonded to it." 

"You bonded yourself with that?!" Draco asked in disbelief and slight anger. "Why?!"

Killian sighed. "Something... inside me... a dark force... it has always been there... and now it's awake... I have to control it..."

"But Killian, what if it falls to the wrong hands?!" Harry now said.

"I already asked Dumbledore to help me cast a protection spell on it. It would harm whoever touches it, unless I give it to them willingly."

"Well... That makes it better." Ron said at a loss for words.

"Wait..." Harry said as his face showed intense concentration and thinking. "That day when you got mad at Nott... and your eyes shone red... is that—"

"Yes. It is."

"Why is there such a dark force in you?" Ron said in confusion. "What happened?"

Killian sighed again. "I wish I could tell you... but I can't."

"Why not—  _Ow_! Hermione!" Ron said as he rubbed his arm.

"It's okay, Killian. Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

Killian smiled at the four of them. "Promise this stays a secret?"

"We promise."


End file.
